Wings of Icarus
by Original-Weeping-Angel
Summary: Harry, Ron and Hermione are in Australia looking for Hermione's parents, when they begin hearing reports about a serial killer who mutilates his victims' bodies with the word 'mudblood'. When the BAU are called in to help the investigation, Hermione Granger and Dr Spencer Reid cross paths.
1. Chapter 1

**OVERALL DISCLAIMER: We all know that none of us own these stories, otherwise the site wouldn't be called fanfiction. That's all I have to say about that! Happy reading, and please review. **

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"_Evil is not something superhuman, it is something less than human."  
-Agatha Christie_

**Chapter 1: Of Invitation and Intrigue**

**BAU**

Penelope Garcia was three quarters through her recap of the BAU's last case when an agitated young FBI agent knocked tentatively on the door.

"Agent Hotchner?"

Hotch turned towards the apprehensive inquiry. It was not often that his unit of the BAU was interrupted when they were in the office.

"Yes?"

"A representative from ASIO is on the phone. They're requesting to speak to you personally."

Hotch looked briefly surprised, before shaking his head at the young man.

"We're almost finished in here; ask them if they could possibly wait for ten more minutes?"

The young agent fidgeted in obvious discomfort, stammering his next sentence to his impeccably shined shoes.

"I-I'm sorry Sir, they said it was important to talk as soon as possible."

Hotch frowned, wondering as the rest of the room did, what would be so important. He rose from his chair and followed the young agent out of the room, sparing a look of intrigued curiosity for Rossi. The second the door closed behind him, the team turned to Rossi. It was just over a week ago that they had heard a news report on a serial killer in Australia.

It had been an increasingly busy time and in the lull that had followed a trip to Minnesota, Reid had overheard some agents in the bullpen discussing the 'Canberra Carver'. He had immediately asked Garcia to investigate and the team had been astounded that they hadn't heard of the case before. Rossi had suggested, casually, that if this continued, then they may be getting a call from overseas.  
None of them had seriously considered the possibility that it might happen.  
"It's got to be about a new victim. I wonder what made them to call us."

Reid looked at Morgan in surprise;  
"This victim makes six victims total. I'm surprised they didn't call us in sooner."  
"No, Spencer, Morgan's right.' Emily said slowly. 'This doesn't just cross federal borders, this crosses international. They must have been organising this for a while."  
The door opened, silencing the debate. Everyone at the table looked expectantly at Hotch, awaiting the news. Hotch gazed around, thankful he needed to explain only a little – it was obvious his team already knew what the call was about.  
"The sixth victim was found about two hours ago." He confirmed. The mood fell slightly as Hotch's words squashed what little hope was left that they were wrong. "ASIO has requested our team in particular, and we're to leave as soon as possible. This case is not, however, official. Those that go assist only in advisory roles. The government doesn't want any panic."  
There was an incredulous scoff that Hotch ignored; making sure that his team had understood the message. There was a nod and a quiet shuffle of clothes as the team rose to make their way to the plane for the briefing. Garcia stayed seated, tapping away at her computer. Morgan stuck his head back inside the door.  
"I don't like to pry Baby Girl, but is there a reason you aren't coming?"  
Garcia looked up with a smile.  
"I'm invited?!"  
Morgan smiled broadly;

"Where would we be without our beautiful teach analyst?"  
She leapt up from her seat, rushing to the door before stopping abruptly.  
"What do I take? I can't remember the last time I went on a trip with you!"  
Morgan smiled again;  
"It's hardly a holiday – and don't bring anything, Hotch said they're ready to supply us with whatever we need."  
She beamed, then ran towards the others waiting outside the door for her decision.  
"Count me in my fine furry friends!"

* * *

**HP**

**FLORESCO IN THE GARDENS  
**  
Ron gave the sign a cursory, detached glance, apparently unimpressed at his current location. He looked behind him again and sighed. Why did Harry and Hermione walk _so _slowly? Ron knew, at this moment, an important decision was before him.  
Go in and order food? Or wait for his friends?

The smell of fish and chips drifted on the light breeze and Ron's decision was made.

"Where else can they be Harry? We've visited all the dentists within this city and every tourist location. No one has seen them! There's only one more major city left on this side of the country, and somehow, I don't think our chances of finding them are increasing with every city they leave behind."  
Harry patted her on the back sympathetically, looking around for Ron. He had become exasperated with their slow walk, apparently misunderstanding the entire intent of their visit to the Botanic Gardens. As they rounded a corner he saw a building amidst the trees. Surely not….  
Harry and Hermione walked closer until a sign came into focus.

_Floresco in the gardens  
_

Harry exhaled lightly. Trust Ron to find a restaurant. Beside him, Hermione remarked;

"Let's get out of this sun before we're all burnt to a crisp. This heat is inhumane."  
"I'm surprised you haven't produced a parasol. I admit, I'm disappointed - I was starting to wonder if that bag was simply endless."  
Hermione smiled, 'Actually, I forgot my parasol today."

Harry's eyes widened before realizing that Hermione was joking.  
They walked inside the restaurant, looking for Ron.  
"Arry! Mione! Um here!"  
Harry and Hermione turned to see Ron waving at them with a chicken leg, his mouth full. Plates of food were spread across the table, though none that Hermione would consider eating. Hermione shook her head at Harry, who had sat down and began wolfing food down at a rate that challenged Ron.  
She walked up the counter, looking quickly at the newspapers and menus. She picked one of each up and walked back to the table. It was only as she took a seat that she saw a figure in the corner of her eye.  
_  
Impossible..._

When Hermione turned to look, the ghost smiled and disappeared.

Bellatrix Lestrange.


	2. Chapter 2

**DISCLAIMER: I own neither Criminal Minds nor Harry Potter. Those genius inventions belong to Miss J.K Rowling and Mr Jeff Davis. **

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**C****HAPTER 2: BAU's POV**

The BAU team left the air-conditioned plane and were instantly hit by the heat of an Australian summer. Garcia swooned dramatically and exclaimed;

"I can feel my strength draining from me! Get me to an air-conditioned room ASAP!"

Morgan chuckled and pulled Garcia up from her half reclined position.

"Come on, baby girl; let's get you to ASIO and a refrigerated room. Although', he paused and used the bottom of his shirt to wipe his forehead, 'it is almost impossibly hot."

At that Reid, who had been pulling the collar of his shirt away from his neck, piped up.

"Actually,' he started, 'it isn't impossible at all. Due to the seasonal tilting of the Earth, Australia is closer to the sun during their summer than we are. Of course, its latitudinal position on the Earth also contributes to the temperatures, as do their position to ocean currents. At the current moment, Australia is on the receiving end of the El Niño phenomenon. Also…"

He trailed off as he realised the rest of the team had continued walking while he was explaining.

"Hey!' he yelled, as he struggled to keep up with their retreating backs. 'Wait for me!"

* * *

The team gazed out of the windows of their car in interest. Most of them realised that, when they thought of Australia, the first thing to come to mind were beaches and wild, dangerous animals. Reid babbled happily about this building and that, reciting pieces of history that fell upon deaf ears. Each Agent was wrapped up in their own thoughts.

JJ was preoccupied thinking about Henry. When she had left him, he had looked incredibly sad for a second, before his Father had come up behind him and hugged him. It had broken her heart just a little. She normally had a rough idea of how long cases would take, but she was well aware this case had an indefinite time limit.

Prentiss was thinking of one of the ASIO employee she had once met. She was thinking how nice it would be to have a friend among all the foreign agents.

Hotch was talking on the phone with his son. He always felt guilty, every time he left him, and this time he was a whole country away. It made him more than a little uneasy, and he had promised Jack that he would talk to him at every available opportunity.

Morgan was fanning Garcia, who was complaining that the air-conditioning was non-existent and she could feel herself becoming faint.

Rossi was sitting quietly in the corner of the car, wondering what the unsub's M.O was. If ASIO had been reluctant to discuss it, it must be unpleasant. He just hoped the victims weren't young children. The car finally pulled to a stop in front of an unobtrusive building, and the team piled out of the car.

A woman dressed in a black skirt and matching jacket stepped out from the shade and walked towards the Americans. Each of the profilers examined her as she neared them. Before they knew her name, they already knew her personality.

The woman extended her hand to Hotch.

"Agent Hotchner, it's a pleasure to meet you. My name is Alice Port."

Hotch shook her hand and replied;

"Ms Port, these are SSA's Jennifer Jearou, Emily Prentiss, David Rossi, Derek Morgan, Dr Spencer Reid and Ms Penelope Garcia."

Ms Port shook hands with everyone but Reid, who she instead gave a small nod of acknowledgement.

"It's a true pleasure to meet you all. Shall we move this conversation to a cooler place? I am aware that the temperature can be a shock to our international guests. Garcia looked ready to embrace her at this statement. She had been in the country barely an hour and already she was desperate to return to her little room in the BAU headquarters in Quantico. Ms Port led the team inside the building and through several identical corridors. She opened a door and gestured the FBI agents into the room.

As they filed into the room, Reid whispered to JJ,

"She knew I'm germophobic! How does she know that? Why does she know that?"

JJ shrugged. She had realized the moment the woman greeted them she had done her homework. She had researched thoroughly the people she was asking for assistance – right down to the smallest of quirks. Spencer, JJ thought, didn't realize how interesting he was to new people. He seemed like a novelty to most – a real genius – only the Boy Wonder had no idea. They sat around the large table that commandeered most of the space in the room. Ms Port continued talking as though she had never paused.

"It is rare that we invite foreign guests into the country to aid us in these matters. I think you've all realized by now though, that this is no trifling matter. This morning, the killer's tenth victim was found. Public hysteria is rising with every new corpse and we knew we needed help."

Ms Port rose and opened a door adjacent to the one they had entered through. There, in neat rows, lay boxes upon boxes of case files. Seemingly at random, the woman leaned forward and picked up a box and brought it back to the table with her. She opened the lid and pulled out a handful of photographs.

"This,' she said, and gave each of the team a photograph. 'Was the first victim – her name was Victoria Tulle. She was a second year university student at James Cook University. She travelled down here as part of a law excursion, visited the Meander's Hotel, and disappeared."

The photograph showed a smiling black-haired girl holding a hockey stick.

"This,' she handed out another series of photographs, 'is how we found her."

The team looked down at their pictures. This photograph showed a bloodied corpse, barely identifiable as the previous girl, except for the shock of black hair. All over her body were deep, curling cuts, twisting gruesomely together to form a single word;

"Mudblood?' Morgan muttered. 'Reid, what's a Mudblood?"

The rest of the team also turned to look at the resident genius, who was examining the picture with a frown. When he answered, it was slow and hesitant.

"I don't know."

Rossi looked at Reid closely.

"If you've suddenly decided to become a comedian, now isn't a good time Reid."

Dr Spencer Reid turned around, looking thoroughly disturbed.

"Rossi, I am telling the absolute truth. I have never seen this word before today! Obviously there are certain connotations it can have – certainly it seems to convey the idea of polluted or otherwise influenced blood. It may relate to Hitler's idea of a superior race in the Aryan people. It may also relate to drug users, or people who otherwise change the state of their original blood. But honestly, 'Reid shrugged, 'I have no idea."

Everyone in the room except Port was shocked by Reid's admission. The BAU had gotten so used to Reid having the answer to everything, even when there wasn't a question, that they were lost.

"Ahem,' Ms Port interrupted politely. 'None of our team knew what it meant either. We thought it was the unsub's tag, of sorts; the killer's way of claiming the victims as his own."

Prentiss, who had been examining the photograph of the girl's mangled body, spoke up.

"No,' she said, shaking her head slowly and looking Ms Port in the eye, 'this isn't a tag at all."

"You're right,' agreed JJ, 'it's a message."

Ms Port looked at the group with a quizzical expression.

"I'm sorry, but… how do you know this is a message?"

JJ held up the photograph and pointed towards the word 'Mudblood.'

"The way it's carved into the skin, it's as though this person is beneath the unsub and isn't a worthy of being considered a person."

Reid added;

"It's a case of elitism. In societies where castes still rule, this person considers themselves one of the higher classes, while the victim is the lowest of low."

"Each victim's body carries the same message. If we discovered what Mudblood meant, we may learn more about the unsub." Rossi stated.

"Well,' sighed Hotch, it would be a start."

**HP'S POV**

Hermione rubbed the scar on her left forearm in annoyance. Every so often the nerve endings started to tingle, and there was nothing she could do but wait it out. She had tried to develop potions and spells to help it, but Molly had caught her and assured her with four words;

"Some scars never heal."

And Molly had known. Hermione had gone with her on the anniversary of Fred's death and saw the bare grief overspilling from her eyes. She had sobbed brokenly and Hermione had vowed that if she was strong enough to survive torture, and Molly was strong enough to survive a son's death, and then Hermione was strong enough to experience the after effects.

She still woke up screaming from the nightmares sometimes though.

"Hermione! Look at this!"

Ron flung a newspaper into Hermione's lap and sat down next to her on the couch. Harry walked over from the window of their hotel room and sat in the armchair at Hermione's elbow.

SERIAL KILLER STRIKES AGAIN – BODY COUNT NOW TEN AND RISING

Hermione frowned at Ron. "I already saw this; what does a M serial killer have to do with us?"

Ron made an impatient noise and snatched the paper back from Hermione, scanning it until he found the line he was looking for.

"There,' he pointed. 'Read that part there!"

Hermione took the newspaper back and scanned the line Ron had pointed to;

_Police representatives have refused to comment on the rumours that the victims were branded with the word 'Mudblood.' The Police Commissioner, when questioned, stated that these rumours were 'preposterous', and went on to ask 'what does Mudblood mean anyway?' The newest victim…_

The rest of the article blurred in Hermione's eyes, and she saw only one word, leaping out at her.

Mudblood.

Right there, in a muggle newspaper.

Mudblood.

Tattooed onto the bodies of once happy people.

Mudblood.

Hermione gazed sightlessly around the room, thrown briefly back in time to a place she hated to visit;

Her torture at the hands of Bellatrix Lestrange.

She could feel the point of the knife, becoming blunt as Bellatrix worked away, digging into the supple flesh of her arm. Hermione looked across at her arm and a single tear rolled across her face.

At that moment in time, she had been utterly broken.

And to think someone was doing the same, maybe even worse, to others…?

Hermione rose suddenly. The newspaper slid off her lap and landed in a heap on the floor.

Harry and Ron also leapt to their feet. Despite being excluded from Hermione's thought processes, they knew her look of determination.

"Harry, Ron,' Hermione stated. 'I'm going to catch a serial killer."

Harry and Ron exchanged a look.

"But Hermione, what about your parents?"

Hermione looked saddened for a second, and then became stubborn again.

"They've made it this long without me. Besides,' she started to speak very softly, 'I need to do this for myself. I want to be free of the nightmares."

Harry and Ron each clapped a hand on her shoulder.

"Well count us in."

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**A/N Chapter 2! What did you think? I can't quite believe people are reading this and I just want to tell you people how amazing you are! Absolute Angels xx. Anyway expect another chapter within the next 24 hours - I promise you :) Thank you so very much to the reviewers - what beautiful people you are ;) **


	3. Chapter 3

**DISCLAIMER: I own nothing. Absolutely nothing.**

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**CHAPTER 3: ** **HP's POV**

Harry, Ron and Hermione stood outside a graveyard.

Emblazoned in scrolling letters across the top of the iron gates were the words;

_Woden Cemetery_

Hermione looked at Ron and Harry. They had agreed to help her find the serial killer as soon as she expected a wish to try.

Sometimes, she forgot that they were adults now. To her, they still seemed the same group of immature 11 year olds that had been overwhelmed by the concept of magic.

But they were friends, and they would follow each other anywhere – even to a creepy foreign cemetery in search of clues to find a murderer.

Hermione stepped bravely towards the front gate. She grasped one of the cool iron bars and pulled forward. With a screech worthy of a B grade horror movie, the gate swung open on its hinges.

Ron stepped up beside Hermione and gazed into the cemetery.

"What's that thing where events are funny in an annoying and bad way?"

Hermione looked at him.

"Irony?"

"Yeah. It certainly fits here – finding a dead girl in a muggle's final resting place."

Hermione thought about that. It certainly was ironic that the poor dead girl had been found in a cemetery.

"Well,' Harry said, 'we won't learn anything standing outside."

They all glanced at each other and, in silent communication, stepped forward at the same time.

The Muggle cemetery was a collection of greying tomb stones and botanical miracles. Hermione moved forward until she stood in front of the mausoleum the girl had been found in front of. Hermione gazed around at the area. It seemed normal enough – but then, Hermione knew that a place didn't have to be special to have blood spilled on it.

"Here it is."

Harry pulled out his wand and held it close to his side.

"Shall we run some diagnostic spells?"

Hermione considered briefly – they would have to cast disillusionment charms and all manner of concealment charms.

But how else would they learn anything about the murderer?

"Sure. Ron, can you keep watch over there?"

Ron walked off in the direction she had pointed, and Hermione turned back the way she had come. She cast a Supersensory charm so she would know if anyone approached her, and turned towards were Harry was casting the diagnostic spells.

There was a flash, and Harry became encased in a transparent bubble.

The new scene showed the newest victim lying on the ground in front of Harry. A man, whose back was towards them, leaned down and administered a draft to the unconscious girl. He tilted his head as he waited for whatever he had given her to take effect. Hermione saw Harry and Ron take note of his features. A few seconds passed, and the girl's body began to convulse. She frothed at the mouth and a strange pattern appeared on her stomach – Hermione realised that she had drunk acids, and it was eating away at her internal organs. Then, a familiar looking woman appeared and, with a wickedly sharp knife, began to carve the girl's skin to pieces. She agonizingly spelled out one word, stretching across the victim's body;

Mudblood.

When she had finished her gruesome mutilation, she smiled eerily and tilted her head to the side, as though listening to something only she could hear. Then she turned and looked straight at Hermione.

It was Bellatrix Lestrange.

Hermione felt her body jolt in shock but before she could react; the ghost was gone.

* * *

**BAU's POV**

Reid was considering the sheets spread in front on him when he heard the sound of rushing feet in the corridor outside.

"Excuse me! Who do you think you are?! Let go! Oh – move over!"

Reid looked at Garcia. The rest of the team had gone to visit the site of the first victim's death, but he had elected to stay behind and read the case files. Ms Port had stayed behind as well so she could provide Garcia with any help – should it be needed.

Garcia raised a single eyebrow.

"Sounds like something's going down out there – what do you think Spence?"

Reid shrugged his shoulders and turned back towards the door. Suddenly, it burst open.

A woman flung herself into the office and quickly identified the most senior person in the room. Rushing over to Ms Port, she stated confidently;

"I have information regarding your serial killer."

Ms Port's eyebrows drew in, and she considered the woman standing before her. The humidity of the day had made the young woman's hair double in size, and the brown hair framed her face like a lion's mane.

But that wasn't what interested Ms Port.

Neither was it her statement that she had new information on a seemingly unsolvable case.

What Ms Port wanted to know was;

"How did you get in here?"

At that moment two burly security guards walked into the room, each holding a young man. "There she is!"

The two young men, evidently the young woman's companions, began to struggle in the security guards grasp.

Reid and Garcia, who had been silent until this point, exchanged a glance with one another. What kind of intelligence agency were these people running, if people could just walk off the street and into a secure room with secret information?

"Stop!"

It was Ms Port.

"I demand to know who you are, where you are from and how you entered this building!"

The woman regarded her warily.

"I'm Hermione Granger. I'm from England."

"Well,' piped up Garcia, 'two out of three ain't bad."

"I also know exactly what your serial killer looks like."

At this, every eye in the room turned to Hermione Granger – including her two companions.

"I'm afraid though, I won't tell you anything unless you promise to let me become part of the investigation."

"Hermione-"

"Ron and Harry will be part of the investigation with me."

At that, her two companions gave a satisfied nod and promptly stopped struggling. Garcia got up and called Hotch. Reid ignored their conversation, instead choosing to study the new arrivals. Of the two boys, one was tall and skinny with shocking red hair, while the other was short and skinny with deep black hair. Reid couldn't tell which was Harry and which was Ron though. The girl, Hermione, was pointedly/markedly shorter than the tall red-haired one, though not much shorter than the black-haired one. Her hair, which had been almost phenomenal in its humidified proportions, was now settling down, though he could tell it was naturally frizzy. He couldn't see much of the features of her face, but he saw her eyes were a pleasant, energetic brown.

She was, he realized, quite pretty.

Reid almost jumped when another figure appeared at the doorway, but this time it was simply Hotch, who lead the rest of the team in. They seated themselves around the table and, seeing the previous occupants of the room looking at the woman, turned their eyes to her as well. Hotch leaned over and whispered in Hermione's ear. She smiled. (She had beautiful teeth, Reid though belatedly) Morgan leaned over and said to Reid:

"She and her friends have been allowed onto the team as consultants."

Reid looked in surprise, but nodded in confirmation. Now, it was time to hear Hermione's information.

"Sit down Miss Granger,' said Ms Port, 'and tell us everything you know."

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**A/N Due to some fantastic reviews I decided to post this chapter as well. I wonder if you all can see a pattern yet? ;) Ahaha thank you soooo much to the following people;**

**fushandchupsandeverything**

**Horsegirl1800**

**DarkFireNyx**

**MorgannaLeFae**

**Lyra **

**TellaBells**

**thank you xx. Also Kiera, Emma, Neneh, Alexis, Rachel and everyone thank you for letting me ask you random questions in the middle of conversations :) **

**I may post another chapter very soon!**


	4. Chapter 4

**DISCLAIMER: **I do not own a thing - certainly not Harry Potter or Criminal Minds.

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**Chapter 4: HP's POV**

"Harry, Ron and I were walking through the cemetery last night when we saw them. There was a man, about Ron's height, leaning over a girl. He held a vial of a liquid, and when he gave it to her she started having a seizure. I realized it was acid when I saw her stomach beginning to melt. He raised his head then, so I was able to see what he looked like. He had short blonde hair, and dark blue eyes. He had rough kind of features, and his nose looked like it had been broken before. His build was bulky, but more muscle than fat. Then, just as the victim was about to die, a woman appeared. She was holding a long, sharp knife. It was about 30cm long, and she used it carve the word 'mudblood' into the girl's body. Her expression was joyful the entire time. When she was done, the girl was on the brink of death. But then, the woman looked straight at me."

One of the FBI agents, the woman with black hair, looked quizzically at Hermione.

"What did you do?"

"I ran. She had seen my face, so I grabbed Harry and Ron and ran straight back to the hotel."

The small blonde FBI agent looked at the tall man sitting next to her. She whispered something in his ear, to which he nodded and returned his attention to her.

Ms Port, who had been silent up until this point, consulted the notes she had been taking and looked back to her Hermione.

"You gave a very thorough description of the man," she started.

"Which was very helpful." The Italian looking FBI agent hastened to add.

"But,' continue Ms Port, 'you neglected to give us a description of his female counterpart."

Hermione surveyed the room before her carefully. She looked closely at Harry and Ron, the former of which gave a minute shake of the head.

"I'm afraid I can't remember."

Everyone but Harry and Hermione frowned at that statement. Ron looked briefly confused and Hermione stared at him, willing him to realise that whoever the Bellatrix look-a-like was, she was the business of the wizarding world, and therefore their responsibility to deal with. Not the Muggle's.

"Miss Granger, surely you remember something of her appearance?"

Miss Granger stared firmly at what was obviously the leader of the FBI group.

"I'm sorry, but I cannot remember anything of her countenance. I just remember a smiling woman who carved words into a dying girl's skin. Isn't that enough?"

"Well,' started the dark-skinned man, 'it's certainly more than we had half an hour ago."

The FBI agents nodded, and the leader turned to look at Ms Port.

"Is there somewhere my team and I can discuss the new developments in private?"

Hermione frowned, Harry was extremely taken aback, and Ron gave a squawk of indignation. Each had thought the Americans were telling the truth when they said the three English friends would be part of their team from then on. The slightly chubby blonde woman, who had been in the room when Hermione had first burst in, seemed to realize this. She smiled at Harry, Ron and Hermione.

"What Hotch means,' she said, 'is the profilers are going to go work their magic. We, the poor souls without psychology degrees, must stay behind and await their brilliance."

She winked, and then as though realizing something of the up most importance, turned to the leader and pointed an accusing finger at him.

"Hotch, I though your Mother brought you up better than that! You haven't even introduced the team to these three yet! Wait,' she said, for Hotch had started to speak. 'I'll start."

She turned back to face Harry, Ron and Hermione.

"My name is Penelope Garcia. I'm the tech analyst for these crazy kids."

Hotch stepped forward and offered his hand.

"I'm Agent Aaron Hotchner of the Behaviour Analysis Unit, FBI.

The dark-skinned man came forward and also held out his hand to each of them.

"My name's Derek Morgan."

The small blonde woman and her dark haired friends also came forward.

"I'm Jennifer Jarreau,' said the blonde woman, 'but most people call me JJ."

The dark-haired woman held her hand out and stated confidently;

"Emily Prentiss. Pleasure to meet you."

Finally, only the tall man who had been sitting next to JJ was left. He moved cautiously forward and made no move to shake anyone's hand.

"I'm (Dr.) Spencer Reid."

He gave them each a nod, and Hermione noted how nervous he seemed of them all. She examined all of them individually for a moment, noting the way they interacted with each other. Then, something (Penelope) Garcia said struck her.

'…the profilers are going to work their magic…'

These people were profilers?! Hermione groaned internally. It suddenly made sense why these American FBI agents were in an Australian intelligence agency.

They were profiling the serial killer.

The Australians must have called them in when they realised they were out of their depth on this case. Hermione could understand that.

But if they were profilers, then they would have known she was lying!

Hermione hoped these people were incompetent. Her life would be so much easier if they were.

She knew of course, that it was a vain hope.

"My name is Harry Potter."

Hermione blinked and realised that it was their turn for introductions. Each of the FBI agents gave Harry a nod of acknowledgement. It was odd to hear Harry introduce himself and not be immediately worshipped or hated.

Ron gave a nervous twitch of the mouth that barely passed as a smile and stepped forward.

"I'm Ron Weasley."

Hermione smiled. They already knew her name, but it was only courtesy.

"Hermione Granger. It's lovely to finally meet you all."

The FBI agents acknowledged her in turn. As they turned to discuss, Hermione settled down next to Ron at the table. He placed a warm hand on her shoulder and she gave him a brief smile. Ron had always been good at reassuring her when she was upset. She placed her bag on the table and pulled out _The Library of Greek Mythology._ In conjunction to something one of the agents said, they turned and looked at the three of them. She saw Reid's eyes take in the book lying on the table. She gave a smile.

"Sometimes we all fly too close to the sun."

As the FBI agents turned and filed out, Hermione swore she saw a small smile on Spencer Reid's face.

She was glad someone had understood her.

* * *

**A/N Wow! I was astounded by the reviews - I'm glad people like my story so much. I just want to say thank you very much xx. If I don't update as regularly as I have been, please don't fret. I have exams coming up and a bit of a cold - so it may be that you won't get the next chapter for a while. Who knows? I may be able to sneak in some internet time and give you all the next chapter.  
Anyways love you all. 3 xx **


	5. Chapter 5

**DISCLAIMER: SURPRISINGLY, I OWN NOTHING. **

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**Chapter 5: BAU'S POV**

Hotch led the way into a room across the hall. He turned and faced his team and regarded them all with a serious expression.

"Miss Granger's information certainly sheds more light on the unsub. We now know more about the M.O and that he has an accomplice. That's valuable information."

Rossi nodded and stepped forward.

"What we know now is that he's a sadist, and his partner believes she lives in an elitist society where she is better than others."

"This partner,' said JJ, 'also seems to be psychotic. She's probably more dangerous than her male counterpart, though he is the more dominant half of the partnership."

Prentiss, who had been standing towards the back, walked towards the centre of the group.

"I don't trust any of them." She said bluntly.

Morgan nodded in agreement.

"Neither do I,' he said, 'did you see when we asked about the female counterpart's appearance? She paused and looked at her companions."

Hotch regarded Prentiss and Morgan.

"Regardless of the fact that she is obviously concealing something, she and her friends are the only source of information we have about the serial killer. She certainly wasn't lying when she described the male unsub, or the way she was killed."

"Are we going to trust her so explicitly though?" Reid asked.

Hotch looked at his team. They were in a foreign country, dealing with a prejudiced serial killer and their only witnesses were hiding something.

"No,' said Hotch, 'we're going to watch Hermione, Harry and Ron very carefully."

**HP'S POV:**

Hermione was halfway through _Theseus and the Minotaur_ when Ron's voice penetrated her thoughts.

"Hermione, what are you reading?"

She looked up, feeling slightly cross.

"This is a collection of very famous Muggle myths Ron! Besides,' she said sheepishly, 'it was your Father's Christmas present. He seemed very pleased with himself for locating what he understood was a very well-known book collection. So of course, I had to read it. And for your information,' she continued huffily, for Ron still had a doubtful look on her face. 'It's very interesting!"

Harry chuckled – his two friends were fighting over another insignificant thing – it was just like old times. Ron held up his hands in surrender at her tone. He had known her long enough now to realize when to surrender. A few minutes later however, another voice intruded.

"Hermione?"

Hermione looked up again; ready to use The Library of Greek Mythology as a weapon if necessary. It was Harry however this time, so Hermione took a deep breath and asked;

"Yes?"

Harry's eyes flicked quickly to the other two occupant of the room, then back to Hermione. He tilted his head, sending her a silent message.

I can't say what I need to in front of these two – can you get rid of them somehow?

Hermione shook her head minutely at Harry. Whatever they need to discuss, they could discuss back at the hotel, where they had warded their room to the enth degree. She knew however, that if she went back to reading now, she was bound to be interrupted again in a few minutes. She closed the book and put it back in her bag and considered the FBI agents.

The leader, Hotch, seemed incredibly serious. Hermione smiled at that thought – he reminded her of herself before she had met Harry and Ron. He had the air of a man who constantly expected the world to collapse in on itself. Rossi seemed to be the second in command as it were. He was the most senior member of the team, but Hermione wouldn't let that fool her. He obviously had a very sharp mind. Prentiss worried her. The woman seemed to catch everything. Hermione was sure she had caught her pause when they had asked about the Bellatrix look-alike's appearance. Something about her reminded Hermione of Molly Weasley. She obviously didn't share Molly's mothering qualities, but Molly never missed anything. Morgan, she couldn't say. He seemed quite astute, but she hadn't got a real sense of him. JJ seemed nice enough. She was the one who had whispered to Reid when Hermione had mentioned running back to the hotel. Reid was the one who interested Hermione. Where his colleagues had all offered to shake hands, he hadn't. That in itself was interesting, but what was intriguing was he had realised exactly what Hermione was talking about when she quoted the Icarus myth.

Not many people would have.

Obviously the young FBI agent was smarter than her looked. And he looked quite smart.

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**A/N Short chapter I know! Anyway I have recovered, so to make up for this measly attempt at a chapter, I will post another chapter very quickly! Love you all **


	6. Chapter 6

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own anything. Not a thing. **

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**CHAPTER 6: BAU'S POV**

As the BAU filed back into the room, Reid's eyes flicked involuntarily to Hermione. When he saw she was watching him as well, he looked quickly away and sat down. He knew he should feel embarrassed, but strangely – he didn't.

Hotch stood at the front of the room and began to speak.

"The BAU have a complete M.O on the unsub, Ms Port,' he stated. 'Would you like to release it to the public? Otherwise, our communications representative,' he gestured at JJ, who gave a nod, 'would be glad to do it."

Ms Port smiled quickly; the expression must have felt as odd as it looked on her serious face.

"ASIO will pass your M.O to our public liaisons officer. Without sounding too offensive,' she said slightly sheepishly, 'you must understand that the Australian public isn't even aware that we've brought in foreign officers to help with the case. Not that you won't get full credit,' she added hastily, 'but it may cause unnecessary fear if FBI agents appeared suddenly on T.V advising the public about a case they thought was being handled locally."

Rossi nodded.

"Of course we understand that Ms Port."

Ms Port looked relieved and started to walk out of the office. At the door she paused suddenly.

"Is there anything else? It is nearing,' she looked down at her watch and her eyes popped out. 'Good Gracious! It's almost 6 in the evening! I haven't even organised accommodation for you yet!"

She started muttering under her breath and making a list on her fingers.

Hermione stood and whispered in Ron and Harry's eyes. They both nodded, Harry more enthusiastically than Ron.

"Miss Port,' Hermione said smoothly, 'there are plenty of rooms empty at the hotel Harry, Ron and I are staying at. It's just down the main road in fact. Would that be suitable?"

The frazzled ASIO officer visibly relaxed.

"Thank you, Miss Granger. That would immensely suitable. May I ask which hotel?"

"The Duxton."

Miss Port nodded in approval and walked out of the room, calling someone. As her voice faded from hearing, she was discussing transportation and communication.

Everyone sat around quietly for a few seconds, when Harry laughed slightly. Everyone looked at him curiously, and Ron asked;

"What is it?"

Harry pointed first to himself, Ron and Hermione, then the FBI agents.

"Look at us, we've arrayed ourselves in battle formation.

And they had indeed.

Ron and Hermione were flanking Harry, each standing behind one of Harry's shoulders. The BAU had spread themselves out behind Hotch, making a 'V' formation.

Morgan laughed at this. The tension, barely noticeable before, dissipated. Everyone's postures relaxed and Hermione and Ron sat down next to Harry. Hotch sat at the head of the table and most of the other agents took similar comfortable positions. Morgan leaned over the back of Garcia's chair, JJ and Prentiss leant against the wall chatting familiarly about some common friends and Reid was sitting opposite Rossi on Hotch's right.

Hermione took the lull in the conversation on her side of the table as an opportunity to study the youngest FBI agent. He was tall and lanky, and he held himself with a kind of awkward confidence. Hermione wondered how old he was. He looked barely a day over 16, but she knew he must be older than that. As she was watching him, Reid's eyes swept over Ron and Harry. He looked her in the eye for a moment and she was the first to look away. Instantly she reprimanded herself. She had just made herself seem weaker than she was.

She hated feeling weak.

A curl of hair fell over Hermione's shoulder and she lifted a hand to push it away. She froze when she felt the heat emanating from her face.

She was blushing!

Hermione remembered the last time she had blushed like this vividly, but it hadn't been because an American profiler had looked at her. It was because Ron had kissed her. She had been so busy being annoyed with herself she hadn't even realized she was blushing.

She could feel Harry's gaze on her face, noting the red flush covering her cheeks. She could feel it now, slowly receding, but she was still stunned. Hermione Granger didn't blush because someone stared at her.

Didn't she?

**Reid's point of view:**

For the first time in a long while, Spencer Reid woke up screaming. His dream, starting out pleasant, had quickly spiralled down into tormented memories. He blinked in the darkness, seeing the blue light flooding through his window. It was comforting to have some light in the room. Something about that bothered him though. He didn't remember opening the curtains. He quickly slipped out of bed and padded across to the window. For a moment, he was disoriented. An unfamiliar city spread beneath his window, cars lazily making their way along the roads. Reid looked at the clock.

3am.

He sighed and resigned himself to the fact that he obviously wasn't going to get back to sleep. Reid snapped curtains shut in annoyance and decided to walk downstairs to get some coffee. As he passed the bathroom, he realized that he should probably look at least half presentable. He walked into the room for the first time, marvelling at the size. His eyes took in the paper balanced on the edge of the vanity, and his brain quickly memorised the words;

_Australia's climate is changing. We ask that our guests be as considerate as possible and attempt to limit their showers and the towels. Please do not put clean towels in the dirty pile, as it uses unnecessary water. Thank you for your co-öperation._

Reid turned the tap on and examined himself in the mirror. His hair was stuck to his forehead by sweat, and his skin looked more pale than normal. He frowned and splashed some water on his face. It made a difference, but not much. He turned the tap off and walked back into his room, acknowledging that he could hardly go downstairs in a well-to-do foreign hotel in clothes wet with perspiration. By the time Reid was finally ready to go downstairs, he had fully recovered from his nightmarish memories and was able to shake the ghostly feelings away. As he was walking down the corridor however, he heard an ear-piercing scream.

Listening carefully, he realised that it was coming from Hermione Granger's room. He tried the door, hoping that she wasn't one to sleep with the door locked.

Luckily, she wasn't, and the door swung open easily. As Reid started to walk into the room however, he felt strange. It was as though he was walking through a thick congealed substance that resisted his every movement. When it stopped, Reid fell face first onto the floor. He picked himself up and rubbed his nose, then walked over to the bed. Hermione had stopped screaming, but she was thrashing violently and whimpering. He stood near the edge of the bed, feeling awkward and uncomfortable. He didn't want to touch her, not because he wasn't one for touching, but because of the way she was moving. He felt as though, if he tried to wake her, she would surely attack him.

And he really didn't want to be attacked right at that moment.

When she opened her mouth to scream again however, Reid realized that he had to help. He stretched out a tentative hand and placed it on her shoulder. He shook her lightly, and to his utter surprise, she woke up.

Before he could react however, he felt his head snap backwards and he fell backwards onto the floor. He could feel a hot pain developing in his nose, and when he put his hand up to touch it, he realized it was broken.

"Miss Granger?" He asked stuffily.

He peered up at the bed from his place on the floor and suddenly Hermione's head appeared near the edge.

"Dr Reid? Is that you?' Then, as she took in the fact that he was lying on the floor, 'I'm so sorry!"

He attempted to smile bravely, but his nose started burning again and he winced.

"It was my fault. I heard you screaming and I came in to see if you were alright. I should have known better than to wake someone having a nightmare."

Hermione hopped out of bed and helped Reid up of the floor. She examined his nose closely. When she saw that it was broken, she apologised again. Reid just shook his head.

"It's fine Miss Granger. You sure can punch though! I don't doubt you could defend yourself."

At his words Hermione looked slightly awkward. She lifted a hand and pushed her hair back into place, disregarding the fact that it fell back into place as soon as she had let go of it.

"Yeah, um…karate lessons, ages ago…"

She trailed off and looked around at the room. Reid's eyes narrowed in suspicion. If that wasn't a lie his name wasn't Dr Spencer Reid.

Hermione (as he had begun to subconsciously think of her), suddenly looked back at him.

"You must have already been awake before you heard me scream."

He blushed lightly at the statement. He didn't want her to think he was a coward when she had just broken his nose with one punch.

And waking yourself up screaming wasn't the bravest thing to do.

"No, I'm a, uh, light sleeper."

She raised her eyebrows in doubt, but after a moment she shrugged.

"If you say so. Shall we go downstairs and get your nose fixed up?"

He smiled gratefully, remaining indifferent to the pain that tore through his nose.

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**A/N Here it is! The better, longer chapter as promised! This chapter, the part from Reid's point of view, was heaps of fun to write. I'm pretty sure I stated laughing out loud at one point - needless to say it earned me a few odd looks. I hope you enjoyed it, and I am writing as fast as I can :) Again, I would like to thank the following reviewers:**

**fushandchupsandeverything - thank you for the 'get well wishes' - I'm devestated to have missed crab soccer ;) I'll see you in lit tomorrow!**

**xanimejunkie - ahaha I know how you feel! I think I've read all of them, so I thoughy 'why not write my own?'**

**MorgannaLeFae - first of all, awesome name :) Yeah it's a challenge trying to balance all the angles of the story, most of all the Spencer/Hermione part. I have no idea yet how to introduce that without rushing things. **

**winka - here it is, more as you demanded ;)**

**Perse B.J - I had to use google translate, but I didn't intentionally write a cliffhanger for you! Thank you very much, I love you too!**

**LeonaMasha - thank you! I understand completely about fics being well written - I've always been a stickler for grammar.**

**Sami - Ahahaha I thought the chapters were too long! I won't hesitate to write more detail if you're okay with it :D**

**DarkFireNyx - thank you! I'll try to keep updating regularly**

**Lyra - thank you very much**

**TellaBells - Thank you as well**

**You're all amazing people. xx Expect more soon!**


	7. Chapter 7

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own anything - I certainly don't own Harry Potter or Criminal Minds. **

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**CHAPTER 7: HP'S POV**

When they filed into the ASIO briefing room, Hermione looked around for Reid. He walked in holding an ice-pack over his still-swollen nose, and he smiled briefly when he saw her watching.

"Are you okay?" She mouthed.

He nodded a little, and then jumped when Morgan's hand landed on his skinny shoulder.

There was a squealing noise from the outside corridor, and Ms Port came in pushing a trolley buckling from the weight of the filed loaded onto it.

"These,' she said, seating herself at the head of the table, 'are the witness files on each of the victims' murders. The photographs are in the folders in that room,' she said, gesturing towards the door she had taken the pictures out of yesterday, 'and if you need any assistance, you can contact me on this. Goodbye."

With that, she threw a mobile phone on the table, and walked out the door. She paused near Garcia and said;

"Your technical room has been set up. Walk down the corridor on the left. The first door on your right in that corridor has been outfitted for you."

When she left, Hotch stood at the front of the room and addressed his team, and its new members.

"We'll spilt into teams to analyse the information. Reid and Morgan; you'll work with Hermione. JJ and Rossi, you can take Harry. And obviously, Hotch and Prentiss, you're working with Ron."

Harry, Ron and Hermione looked at each other. Harry looked a little nervous, but Ron looked outright terrified. Hermione, Harry noted in interest, looked excited.

Hermione was busy thinking about last night. When she had woken from her nightmare of Bellatrix looming over her, slicing a knife into skin, she had seen another face, momentarily unfamiliar, leaning over her. Before she could register the person's appearance, she had pulled out her wand and cast a nonverbal stupefy. She had stayed in her place in her bed for a moment, before she heard a man's voice ask;

"Miss Granger?"

She had noted the stuffy tone of his voice and leant over the edge. She examined the form lying prone on the ground and registered the facial features.

It was Dr Spencer Reid – the intriguing American profiler she had met the previous day. He had lain on the floor, his once straight nose snapped bloodily to the side, his hair even messier than usual.

"Dr Reid, is that you?' She had asked, just in case her eyes were deceiving her. "I'm so sorry!" She added for good measure. It seemed her spell had hit him in the nose, and instead of knocking him out cold had broken it. He had made an odd grimace, and then winced. Still speaking stuffily, he had said;

"It was my fault. I heard you screaming and I came in to see if you were alright. I should have known better than to wake someone having a nightmare."

At that she had felt immensely guilty, up until he said she could punch. She realized that to him, as a Muggle, her spell must have seen like a punch. In her hurry to assure him he was right, she told the most obvious lie of her life. She was still admonishing herself – karate lessons?!

She looked across at him now as he and Morgan made their way over to where Hermione was sitting. Reid had definitely known she was lying. He and Morgan sat on either side of her, and Hermione looked out the corner of her eye at him as he removed the ice-pack. She was surprised to see his nose was looking less swollen, though not much. Muggle science was progressing so quickly!

Reid turned to look at her, and she quickly switched her attention to Hotch, who had risen from his place. He picked up the witness files and sorted them into three piled. He cleared his throat, and started speaking when everyone was paying attention to him.

"Morgan's group, this is your pile,' he said, indicating the stack of files on his far right. 'JJ, this is yours, and this group, is mine. Collect the forensic documents relevant to your victims and their witnesses." He picked up the group of files immediately in front of him and moved to the corner of the room where his group had convened. She could see Ron, looking highly nervous and confused. When he turned to look for Harry, he spotted Hermione staring at him. She mouthed the words 'what's wrong?' and he suddenly looked as worried as he had every time Snape had called on him in potions class. 'What do I do?' He almost yelled, and everyone turned to look at him. Prentiss held out a folder to Ron, saying;

"Take this. Read the witness statements and then look at the victim's photographs. If there are any inaccuracies, or something doesn't seem quite right, tell us and we'll have a look at it. It may be that the unsub isn't killing these girls randomly – either the male or the female counterpart may know the victims."

Ron looked immensely disappointed when he heard that his job involved reading. Hermione almost laughed at the near comical way his whole demeanour drooped when he accepted his task. She turned back to her own team, catching Harry's wink when he caught her eyes as she looked around. Before she could pick up her own set of files to study though, the door to the room flew open. A harassed young man with bright gold hair peered into the room.

"Agents?' He asked, as though…. 'There's been another murder."

Immediately the team stood up, rushing towards the door, almost leaving Harry, Ron and Hermione behind before someone had the presence of mind to yell back;

"We have cars at the front of the building waiting for us – Ride with the team you were working with!"

Harry, Ron and Hermione exchanged a look before hurrying after the BAU agents. If there was another murder so quickly, then somehow, the serial killers knew that they had been identified. The question was of course – how?

When they arrived at the scene of the latest murder, Hermione wasn't the least bit surprised to see it was another cemetery.

What did surprise was how affected she was by the sight of the newest victim's mangled body. Where his stomach was meant to be, there was a gaping hole, still bubbling and melting from the residual acid. When they all got within 5 metres of the body, they gagged at the smell. The acidic fumes that remained were bad enough, but the combination of that and the smell of burning flesh were extreme. A police officer jogged up and produced 9 face masks – enough for everyone. The obligatory 'mudblood' was carved into the remaining parts of the boy's body. The wounds were fresh enough that they were still sluggishly weeping their red tears. Hermione looked at Harry and Ron's faces in horror. They had seen terrible things in the war, done things they would regret until their dying days, but this fresh horror struck them anew. This boy wasn't a casualty of war – he was cruelly taken from his life because of his blood. And that scared Hermione more than anything else.

Because it could have been her.

It still could.

**BAU'S POV:**

The young man's body lay, still bleeding and bubbling, in the place it had been dumped for over an hour. Teams of police and their foreign (counterparts) swarmed and converged on the area as ants are prone to do in a picnic. The BAU examined the body, face masks held firmly in place.

"He went overboard with the amount of acid. He's losing control, maybe his temper as well. Somehow, he and his female counterpart found out that we have witnesses now." Rossi remarked, staring in pity at the boy's desecrated body.

"I think I know what type of acid he's using. Only one type of acid is capable of this type of destruction. A super acid – I think in this case he's using Magic acid. The molar ration is mostly 1:1 and it's a combination of HSO3F and SbF5. That's fluorosulfonic acid and antimony pentafluoride," he added hastily, for Morgan's expression had been a metaphorical question mark.

Hotch nodded.

"I've heard of it. But isn't it only available in chemistry laboratories?"

Reid shook his head.

"Not necessarily. As it is a combination acid, the products could be brought separately and combined, if one had the required equipment."

The BAU agents turned around and saw Harry, Ron and Hermione holding onto one another, as though the slightest breeze may blow them apart. The BAU examined the three's facial expressions.

"Look at them,' Morgan muttered, 'they're sad, not scared. They're seen this kind of thing before."

The team looked at the three English friends' faces. Where the shock and horror should have been, there was instead an expression of slight outrage and immense pity. Prentiss looked at them closer. She knew where she had seen that look before; it was the expression soldiers had when a comrade was lost.

Upsetting, it was true, but somehow inevitable.

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**A/N Chapter 7! yayayay :D Thank you to the wonderful Kiera (Niamaha #2) for the acid idea! This story wouldn't be the same without it xx. Also, that amazing source of inspiration - wikipedia, for its information on magic acid. **

**Thank you again to the fantastic reviewers! 3 you all :)**


	8. Chapter 8

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Harry Potter or Criminal Minds.**

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**CHAPTER 8: HP'S POV**

Back at ASIO headquarters, a sombre meeting between the BAU and Harry, Ron and Hermione was interrupted by Penelope Garcia.

Ron had been examining the white framed object, wondering what Muggle secrets were hiding behind its opaque glass screen. Suddenly, it clicked on, and an image of the cherubic American tech analyst appeared. With a yell, Ron threw himself backwards, his chair falling to the floor, leaving him flailing on the carpeted surface as the BAU watched him in surprise. A laugh emerged from the rectangular object, and Hermione recognised it as the new touch screen technology Muggles' had taken to using. She picked Ron up of the floor, and quietly whispered to him what it was. Garcia's voice finally rose from the screen;

"I have an identification on your new victim, my precious people. His name is William Orson, he's a first year nurse and has nothing in common with our previous victims. I searched Australian records and something interesting came up though. Before they went to university or got jobs, none of these victims were on record since their birth."

JJ shook her head.

"Are you sure Garcia? I know Australia doesn't have the extensive records that we have, maybe they just didn't do anything of note during those years."

Garcia grimaced and slowly moved her head from side to side.

"I wish it were true my dear JJ, but it is. These kids were born, then they completely went off the record from about age 11, and then mysteriously appear again at eighteen – getting amazing jobs and attending some pretty prestigious universities."

The team all looked confused. Morgan asked the question everyone was wondering;

"Where did they go?"

Garcia smiled sadly.

"That is exactly what I cannot discern. These kids must have gone to school somewhere, but there's no record anywhere!"

"Don't worry baby girl,' Morgan soothed. 'You'll figure it out soon enough."

Garcia nodded;

"I hope so,' she said."

The screen went black and there was a second of silence. The members of the BAU looked at each other, silently making a decision on their next move. Hotch stood and addressed the room.

"We will continue as we were, looking for inaccuracies in the case files. Keep in mind the male unsub is probably involved in medicine in some way, since he has access to some restricted acids. The female unsub remains a mystery, but keep an eye out for a woman possibly connected to the victims, maybe a fellow student with a grudge."

The case files were still lying as they had been left that morning, opened to pictures and personal information, littering the table top in abandon. Reid, Morgan and Hermione took a seat up against the wall. Morgan stretched his legs out in front of him, placing his folders in a precarious pile on his right side. He slipped lower down the floor and used his stomach to prop up the case file. Hermione watched the process in fascination. She loved to sit curled up with her book, so seeing how other people sat was always interesting. She turned her attention to Reid. He leant lightly against the wall, pulling his knees up almost to his chest. He stacked the files neatly in front of his tucked up legs, opened a file and began to read.

Hermione watched in shock as he took less than 10 seconds to read one page. Surely he's not actually reading! Hermione thought doubtfully. He scanned the pages quickly, flipping page after page before Morgan had completely read two. She looked around for Harry and Ron, needing confirmation that what she was seeing was real. Unfortunately, Harry was involved in his victim's crime scene photographs and Ron was scowling at his pile of folders in resentment. Hermione leaned over to talk to Morgan.

"Is he actually reading that?" She whispered.

Morgan smirked, and Reid sighed resignedly.

"Yes, I am actually reading. My brain can process the information faster than normal due to my IQ."

Morgan leaned across Reid, so he and Hermione were face to face.

"He's too modest to tell you anything,' he grinned. 'He can read 20 000 words a minute and he has an IQ of 187. The kid's our genius."

Hermione felt her eyes widen in surprise. She hadn't done a Muggle intelligence test in a long time, though according to the Ministry of Magic, Hermione was in possession of a 'brilliant mind.' It wasn't the same thing as being a genius though. She didn't know exactly how to respond to Reid's comment, so she smiled vaguely and went back to her own pile of folders.

**BAU'S POV:**

Reid smiled to himself at Hermione's reaction.

Not many people knew how to take the knowledge of his intelligence. They generally reacted one of two ways. Either they started fawning over him and treating him like a God, or they became scared and daunted, wary of being in his presence.

He tried to hide it, but it still hurt him deeply when that happened.

Reid wasn't sure how Hermione was going to act. She had looked surprised, but she hadn't looked awestruck – instead she had looked impressed. He hoped she and her friends would accept him as the team had come to, but he had realized long ago that you couldn't control people's reactions.

He finished reading his files, feeling slightly preoccupied. He stood and stretched out, pushing his hair out of the way. He felt the phone in his pocket vibrate, and he tensed. Then he reprimanded himself – it was obviously Garcia. Who else had his mobile phone number?

He pulled out his phone and looked at the I.D. It wasn't a number he recognised. Then he remembered she was probably using one of the ASIO phones.

"Hello?"

There was silence on the other end of the phone, and Reid became slightly worried.

"Garcia? Is that you? Are you okay?"

By this time, Morgan had risen from his seated position and was leaning close to Reid so he could hear the reply.

Or lack of.

The silence continued on the other side of the phone. Morgan gestured to Reid that he wanted the phone, and Reid willingly surrendered it. Everyone in the room was watching the exchange now, files again abandoned throughout the room. Morgan put the phone on loud speaker and held it out.

"Hello? Who's there?"

Again, continuous silence on the other side and Prentiss gestured at the door, mouthing the words;

'I'll go and check on Garcia.'

As she walked down the corridor, an eerie silence overwhelmed Prentiss. She knocked on the door Ms Port had told Garcia was hers and when she heard no reply, wrenched open the door.

Prentiss collapsed on the floor, tears etching their way down her cheeks, silently crying at the scene before her.

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**A/N DUM DUM DUM! ****Am I cruel to leave you like that? Maybe :D Anyways I want to say a huge, HUGE** **thank you to fictionfanatic1234! I got your review and it made my day! 3 And thank you very much for pointing out the inaccuracies - because I don't have a beta, my brain is moving so fast with the story that it sometimes misses these things. Thank you very, very much! :D Again, if you want to review, it would be much appreciated! bye xx**


	9. Chapter 9

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own anything - possibly excepting the cake I baked last night. **

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**CHAPTER 9: BAU'S POV**

"Garcia?" Prentiss whispered, staring in shock at the scene before her. The room was sparsely furnished and the single desk was cluttered with technical equipment. A wooden chair, the companion to the desk, was overturned on the floor. Garcia's toys that normally covered her desk at the BAU were littered about the room in careless abandon.

Garcia herself was nowhere in sight.

Prentiss could feel the tears still, the ones that had come from the shocking, immediate though that had hit her the moment she walked in.

Garcia had been kidnapped. Or worse, killed.

"Emily?" A voice from the door-way. "Emily, what's wrong?"

Hands grasped her shoulders and pulled her off the floor. Prentiss collapsed into the person's arms, waiting for the reassurance she craved. She felt hands making soothing strokes on her back, combined with the soft jingle of bracelets.

…Bracelets?

Prentiss pulled back quickly, and through the cloud of tears she saw a familiar face.

"Garcia! Don't you ever do that to me again! Where the hell were you?!"

She hugged her friends tight, disbelieving the evidence that Garcia was alive before her. The terrible doubt that had filled her since she entered the room began to drain away.

"Emily, sweetie, why are you crying? I went to get some coffee, which you are crushing by the way."

Prentiss felt herself being pulled back from Garcia, and she turned to see Hotch and Ron standing behind her. Hotch was telling Garcia about the mysterious phone call that they had thought was from her, and Ron was walking towards her.

"Miss Prentiss?"

That made Prentiss smile weakly and she corrected him softly.

"Just Prentiss. What's wrong Ron?"

He shook his head, looking around at the room. Prentiss swore it was a trick of the light, but for a second he looked years older and wiser, almost scary.

"If it wasn't this lady,' he said, gesturing to Garcia, who was digging through the clutter on her desk for the phone she had been given on arrival. 'Then who was it?"

What a good question, Prentiss thought, looking in surprise at the redhead before her.

"I can't find it!" Garcia yelled, looking frustrated and a little terrified. "It's not here!"

Hotch's face became set. He looked intensely serious, more so than usual.

"That means that our unsub was inside this room."

**HP'S POV: **

From inside the room, Hermione could hear the yell from down the corridor.

"I can't find it! It's not here!"

She looked at Harry in shock. If Garcia couldn't find the phone, which had to mean it had been stolen. And only one person had the motive to steal it.

The Bellatrix look-a-like and her partner in crime. Hermione realized it was time for her to find out what this murderous woman's name was.

Hermione had never visited another branch of the Ministry of Magic. Logically, she knew that it would look nothing like the Ministry of Magic in England, but she was still surprised when she walked into the foyer.

The area was dominated by a large set of stairs, made of cool stone. Everywhere she looked were groups of busy looking witches and wizards, their robes making Hermione slightly homesick for the wizarding world. The swish of robes across the floor and the clamour of voices made a glorious cacophony. She looked around her and located the information desk. As she walked over to it, Hermione saw she was attracting looks when people recognized her. Hermione had purposefully made Harry and Ron stay behind at the hotel. Not only did it decrease the suspiciousness of her trip, but it meant she attracted less attention.

She still attracted a large amount of attention.

The British wizarding media had dubbed she, Harry and Ron the 'Golden Trio' soon after their victory against Voldemort.

She despised the name.

Hermione hated reminders of what had transpired during those horrific months. She was the supposed 'brains' of the Golden Trio. She had hoped, vainly it seemed, that here in Australia no one would recognize her.

But even half a world away, she was the girl that helped put an end to the terror of the Wizarding World.

By the time she arrived at the information desk, the previous cacophony had faded to absolute silence. Hermione could feel every eye on the room on her, and she cleared her throat before asking;

"I was wondering if you could give me some information on a witch?"

The information witch stared at her blankly for a moment, before saying in shock;

"You're Hermione Granger."

The awe in her voice was evident and Hermione grimaced. She opened her mouth to reply and felt a hand on her shoulder. She turned around and found herself facing a familiar face.

"Malfoy?!"

She registered the familiar smirk and the shining hair.

"Granger.' He replied, and then smiled a little. 'Are we still on a last name basis?"

Hermione felt the corners of her mouth lift in a small smile. Malfoy smiled a little in return, then replied;

"You're looking for information on a witch? Looks like you're in luck Granger, because I happen to have access to every Ministry of Magic record."

She frowned at that, since it was completely impossible, unless…

"Are you serious?"

"Completely. I'm the youngest Australian Minister of Magic ever."

Not surprisingly, Malfoy's office was decorated almost completely in green and silver. Hermione noted in amusement that his wooden furniture was white, stained silver. He gestured to a comfortable looking chair near a bookcase in the corner of the room. Hermione pulled out her wand, glad to finally feel it again in her hand. She charmed the chair so the colours shifted from silver and green to red and gold.

Malfoy noted the chair in amusement.

"Some things never change, do they?"

She shook her head a little sadly.

"What kind of records were you looking for?"

This was where things got a little awkward. Hermione knew that if the woman looked so much like Bellatrix, then she had to be related to Malfoy somehow. Malfoy raised an eyebrow when she didn't reply.

"Whatever it is Granger, we've lived through a war together. Maybe we weren't on the same side, but I think it means the conventional conversational barriers are slightly defunct."

Hermione nodded – Malfoy was right. In a rush, she filled him in on all the events of the past few days.

When she finally stopped talking, Malfoy thought for a little while. When he had a come to a conclusion, he looked up and stared her straight in the eyes.

"You don't need records Granger. I know exactly who the witch you described is."

Then he paused for too long and Hermione prompted him.

"Malfoy? Who is she?"

She couldn't tell anything from his expression.

"She's my Aunt Bellatrix's cousin – her name is Alexis Bundy."

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**A/N Hello - new chapter for you all :) It's my last day of school (exams next week!) so I'm feeling generous - hence why I didn't leave the last cliffhanger chapter unfollowed. I'm currently writing chapter 12, so if the updates stop next Monday, it's because of my exams. Reviews are amazing and this chapter is dedicated to Alexis - Thank you! xx**


	10. Chapter 10

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Harry Potter or Criminal Minds **

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**CHAPTER 10: BAU'S POV **

Harry, Ron and the BAU team sat around the wooden table. Harry and Ron were waiting impatiently for Hermione to return, while the BAU team were discussing how the unsub could have entered a top secret intelligence agency undetected.

"Either he or the female unsub must have a connection to ASIO." Hotch said.

Rossi nodded.

"He may be employed here – perhaps as a cleaner, which would explain the extent of his access."

Garcia spoke up from the end of the table. After the loss of her phone to the unsub, she had been too scared to go back into her room.

"Shall I check all the employee records?"

"Yes,' said Prentiss, 'but do it subtly. We don't want the Australians to know we suspect one of them."

Garcia smiled wryly;

"Subtle is my middle name."

She turned to the computer and started clacking away at the keys, her eyes drawn to the screen. Reid was still fixated on one question though.

"How did the unsubs get my phone number?"

"That is a good question." JJ agreed.

There was a bark of laughter, and all eyes turned to Morgan. He was trying his hardest to hold his laughter in, but it wasn't working. Finally he gave up and laughed out loud.

"Do you remember the time,' he said, wiping tears from the corner of his eye and clutching his stomach. 'That I gave out Reid's number to the public?"

Reid looked slightly disgruntled and everyone else started laughing as well. He smiled when he remembered how he had got his revenge however.

At that moment the door creaked open, admitting Hermione and a blonde haired stranger. The profilers watched the pale man suspiciously, taking in every aspect of his person. They were surprised when the two English men leapt to their feet, Ron racing towards him with his hands fisted and face twisted into a fierce expression. Harry was on his heels, arms crossed over his chest, not trying to hold Ron back.

Leaning menacingly into the blonde man's space, Ron asked;

"What are you doing here, you slimy haired git?"

The strange man smiled pleasantly, not at all daunted.

"I have as much right to be here as you, more so in fact. Although I have to ask – however did you manage to finance this trip? Does your family sleep with the pigs in their sty now?"

That made Ron snap. He threw himself towards the blonde, fist flying towards his pleasantly smirking face.

Suddenly, Hermione stepped between the two of them. Reid saw, as though in slow motion, the realization upon Ron's face. The force he was moving with would surely do some damage to Hermione if she was hit – and how could Ron possibly stop in time?

As though hitting a brick wall, Ron stopped. Reid was in shock – his reaction time was inhumane, even supernatural. Ron's fist hovered in mid-air for a moment, and then drifted slowly downwards until it rested unthreatening at his side. Harry was staring hard at Hermione. Morgan saw the stranger look quickly at Hermione, before turning to study the BAU team. Hotch was surprised when the man identified him as the authority, and walked towards him. With an outstretched hand, he stated;

"Draco Malfoy."

Hotch summarised that was the man's name, and he shook his hand.

"Aaron Hotchner. Are you a friend of Ms Granger's?"

At that he smiled slightly, just a slight tilt of the lips.

"You could say that." He said vaguely.

As this exchange went on, Reid was watching as Harry, Ron and Hermione had an intense, whispered discussion. He studied their body language, noting how tense each of their shoulders were. Hermione's hands were fisted at her side, and she leaned forward slightly on the front of her feet. Ron was reclining backwards a little, arms loose at his sides and sneering. Harry's face was blank, and he seemed more calm than Ron and Hermione.

Reid wanted desperately to know what was so controversial about the other man.

**HP'S POV:**

"He's a Death Eater Hermione-!"

"Ex-Death Eater!

"-And you can't bring a Death Eater onto a case about the murders of Mudbloods! Or have you forgotten-?!"

"How could I forget! Every time I look down – there it is! Every time I close my eyes, she's there with her knife, scarring me for life and ending Dobby's hopes and dreams. I haven't forgotten anything Ronald. I just have the presence of mind to remember that Draco never killed anyone! We cannot hold him accountable for the sins of his Father!"

"Oh, so it's Draco now?!"

"Ahem."

Hermione and Ron whipped their heads towards Harry. He had been silent up until then, calmly standing without passing judgement.

"Ron, I'm not saying I agree with Hermione, but shall we give Malfoy the benefit of the doubt? Just remember,' he said, for Ron had started to protest, 'what happened last time we didn't listen to Hermione. You left us for months and I was almost killed by Nagini at Godric's Hollow.

Ron shut his mouth abruptly, scowling a little. A few minutes later, he nodded his head in resignation.

"I'll give him one chance. If he puts one foot wrong…"

He trailed off, apparently leaving the threat to speak for itself.

**BAU'S POV:**

As the course of the argument progressed, the profilers could see Harry and Hermione were breaking down Ron's resentment towards Mr Malfoy. None of them could understand what the standing hate between them entailed, but it didn't mean they couldn't see the poisonous looks the two exchanged when they shook hands. If this agreement could be called a truce, it was only temporary.

When the resentment within the room had cooled from palpable to barely noticeable, everyone took their seats around the table. There were different borders now. The lines that had developed had been destroyed as quickly as they had been drawn, recreated upon Malfoy's arrival.

Hermione stood up as soon as everyone had taken a seat.

"Mr Malfoy is an old school friend of ours. I went to find him because I believed his position would yield some information to discover the woman's identity."

Before she could sit down, Morgan asked;

"What is his position?"

Like a startled animal, she looked at Malfoy.

"He's a, uh…"

"I'm afraid that's top secret, Hermione – as you well know." He looked hard at Hermione, then around at the agents.

Every BAU agent in the room was looking in doubt at Draco Malfoy. Who on Earth could he work for? They worked for the government, and they were still allowed to discuss their jobs to a certain extent.

Resisting the urge to ask question, because they could all see in Malfoy's face that he wouldn't answer, the BAU rose as a single group and left the room – ignoring the astounded expressions of Harry, Hermione, Ron and Draco. They walked into Garcia's room, disregarding the lack of desks and arranging themselves in comfortable positions about the room.

"I'm going to ask what we're all thinking.' Morgan said from his position against the wall. 'Who the hell are these people?"

Hotch readily agreed with Morgan.

"We can't afford to lose their trust though, not when they know so much more about this case than they're letting on. We're going to have to keep an eye on all of them, not just Hermione Granger. We'll give it two weeks, and if they continue to exhibit this behaviour we'll have Ms Port remove them from the investigation."

"Are they part of a cult?" Prentiss asked.

"No,' Reid said, 'I think it has something to do with that school they all went to."

"I agree', Rossi said, a look of concentration on his face. 'I think it's time we found out who these people really are."

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**A/N Double figures - we have reached chapter 10! yayayay :) This chapter is dedicated to fictionfanatic1234, who pointed out the fact that the FBI agents hadn't done a background check on Harry, Ron and Hermione - very lax of them, and of me for not noticing. Anyway thank you! Also Crimson Music Wolf - thank you, yours was the funniest review I have recieved so far - 'Wow' describes my own reaction to writing so much! **

**For the incredibly astute, you may have noticed the second subtle piece of magic worked in the presence of Muggles by these three :) **


	11. Chapter 11

**INTERLUDE:**

That week went by with no new murders. After the vicious and uncontrolled killing of the boy, the serial killer and his partner were much too quiet. The BAU and their English partners took to walking the streets and examining the cemeteries, both private and public. They all began to get along better, but underneath it all, there was the lingering suspicion in the BAU's minds that no one was quite telling the truth.


	12. Chapter 12

**DISCLAIMER: I DON'T OWN ANYTHING. **

**A/N Really quickly, just a note, It has been a week and change since Hermione, Harry and Ron's arrival in Australia. **

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**CHAPTER 11: HP'S POV**

When Hermione went downstairs early that morning, she saw a familiar figure sitting at a table alone.

Dr Spencer Reid.

It had been a week since she had broken his nose and Reid had told her how much of a genius he actually was. However, the atmosphere between Hermione and her friends and the BAU agents meant that despite spending almost fourteen hours a day with Reid and Hotch, she knew nothing more about them. Taking the opportunity presented, she took a seat opposite Reid.

He blinked once in surprise and set down his cup of coffee.

"Good morning."

"Morning."

Silence prevailed for a few minutes, Hermione drinking her own cup of tea while Reid moved onto another cup of coffee. Then;

"What's the name of the school you all went to?"

Hermione choked on her mouthful of tea and began coughing uncontrollably. Reid calmly offered her a handkerchief and called for a glass of water. He waited patiently as she stopped coughing and he pushed the water towards her when it arrived. He regarded her as she sipped it slowly. Hermione was trying to use her basic knowledge of legillemency to contact Draco. She realized he was asleep and that she couldn't stall any longer. She set her glass down lightly, and crossed her arms on the table.

"I'm sorry,' she asked as politely as she could, 'but what was the question?"

Reid's eyebrows crept up his forehead and the tips of his mouth turned up slightly.

"I asked what the name of the school you all attended was called."

"Oh."

When she gave no other answer, Reid asked;

"Is that all you're going to say?"

"No."

Again, her pause stretched out. Reid's patience was beginning to stretch thin.

"Are you going to answer me or not?"

"Yes."

Her monosyllabic answer broke Reid's calm demeanour.

"Surely you know the name of your own school?!" He burst out.

"I know the name! It's just, it won't be on any records of yours."

"Is it a new age school?"

"Not…new…age."

"So it's an old school?"

Hermione cursed herself when she realized she had put too much emphasis on 'new'.

"Yes. It's called Hogwarts."

Hermione had decided she might as well give him the real answer. He wouldn't be able to find anything on it anyway. There was nothing in the secrecy stature about revealing the name of places to Muggles.

"What an interesting name."

"That's what I thought when I first got there."

They were silent for a little longer, and Hermione sipped sporadically at her water. She was wondering what had made Reid ask about her school.

Reid stood up suddenly.

"I need to go. I'll see you later."

Before Hermione could say goodbye, Reid was rushing out of the room. She sat alone for a while, a little stunned by what had just transpired. When she next looked down at her watch, she didn't register the time.

Hermione was so lost in her own mind; she didn't even realize how late it was. Without warning, she felt hands grasping her shoulders, pulling her up from her seat. Shocked, she pulled out her wand as fast as she could; pulling out of the hold she was in. Hermione pointed her wand at the person holding, taking a minute to register that it was Malfoy. He had his hands held up in surrender, and though he was attempting to smile bravely, he looked too scared for the expression to be genuine.

She lowered her wand, apologising sheepishly to Malfoy. They walked out of the room together, turning up at ASIO headquarters and hour late.

Hermione stopped in shock at the doorway when she saw the pictures spread across the desk.

"They've found a new victim." Ron said unnecessarily.

Harry pulled out the chair next to himself for Hermione, and pushed the gruesome pictures towards the centre so Hermione could see them clearer.

She instantly wished he hadn't.

These pictures showed a tall girl's body, the bones of her ribs sticking obscenely from her melted torso. She did not have 'mudblood' scrawled lengthways across her body like all the other victims, she instead had it scarred deeply all over her body. Across her forehead, the word 'mudblood' was still weeping blood.

Her clothes were barely distinguishable after the acid had burnt through it, but Hermione would recognise those colours anywhere.

She was wearing a Gryffindor Quidditch uniform.

She shared a look with Harry and Ron. Draco was sitting between Rossi and JJ, and Hermione couldn't tell anything from his expression. She felt an itch near the back of her neck, and she knew she was being watched. As surreptitiously as possible, she looked around the table. She locked eyes with Reid. Hermione tilted her head to the side, wondering why it was she kept slipping up when it came to him.

It was a mystery.

**BAU'S POV:**

Garcia began the brief on the newest victim, and Reid quickly switched his attention from Hermione to her.

"The victim's name was Rachel Landau. She's the newest recruit for the Oriels. They just graduated apparently, though there are of course no records of her schooling from age 10 and upwards. We can't make any identification on the clothes she's wearing, though we do have a partial school crest."

She pulled down the projector screen, grimacing at the lack of her normal technology. While the projector warmed up, Hotch pointed out slight differences between the new victim's death and the unsub's M.O.

"With Ms Landau's death, the word 'Mudblood' was more apparent. It was written no less than twenty times on various parts of her body. This time it was written on extremities, not the torso. This is probably due to the overuse of the acid, as you can see from her visible ribcage."

Ron paled a little and gagged, while Hermione was shaking severely. Harry was grimacing at the picture before him, but Draco's façade was as calm as the BAU team's.

"This, my delectable darlings is the partial crest that our wonderful Australian friends identified."

On the screen, there was a blown-up picture of a school crest consisting of a red lion on its haunches, with gold detail. Beneath that, a name picked out in gold was half visible.

"Gryf?' Morgan asked. 'As in Gryphon?"

"Most probably,' Reid said, 'unless it's from another language, in which case it could be any number of words."

"Was that all they could find on the uniform?" JJ asked.

"No.' Garcia replied, 'they also found her name across the back, also in gold. It's been proposed that perhaps she's wearing a sport uniform. Although what sport she would play involving floor length robes is beyond me."

Everyone examined the picture in front of them for a while. Suddenly Hotch's phone rang and he excused himself to answer it. Reid turned to JJ.

"I asked Hermione what school they attended together this morning."

JJ looked at him in surprise.

"And what did she say?"

"She didn't – at least not at first. She kept replying with one word answers, until I finally yelled at her that she must know the name of her own school."

"What then?"

"Then she got very quiet and replied that I wouldn't find it on any records of ours. I asked whether it was new age and she said it wasn't, but she emphasised new. So it's old, that's for certain."

JJ rolled her eyes at that.

"An old school in England? That doesn't exactly narrow the field, Spence."

Reid looked a little disgruntled.

"I know that! I actually have the name though, if you want to hear it."

She smiled at how much of a child he sounded like when he said that.

"Of course I want to know."

"It's called Hogwarts."

JJ thought about that for a moment. The name didn't sound familiar to her…

"Have you ever come across it before?"

Reid shook his head, looking a little annoyed with himself.

Hotch walked back into the room and addressed them all;

"JJ, Rossi and Harry – you're going to go interview the victim's family. Morgan, Reid and Hermione, you're going to stay here with Garcia. Ron, Prentiss and I will visit the site of the murder."

Ron visibly paled and his freckles stood out boldly against his skin. Hermione, immediately feeling sorry for him, opened her mouth to volunteer in his place. Before she could, Hotch started speaking again.

"Mr Malfoy, if you-"

"I'm afraid I can't help you today,' Draco said quickly, sliding smoothly from his seat and straightening his suit. 'I have a very important meeting I couldn't possibly miss. I will return tomorrow morning."

With that, he swept from the room, closing the door imperceptibly behind him. Hotch blinked a bit. He was a little shocked. Draco Malfoy hadn't been rude in the slightest, though he may have been a bit abrupt – it was the manner of his departure that surprised Hotch. He had almost run from the room after hearing the about the team going to the scene of the murder. Hotch gazed around sightlessly for a second, before pushing the matter to the back of his mind. He would think about what the strange behaviour amounted to later.

"Mr Hotchner?"

It was Hermione Granger.

"Yes?"

"I was wondering if I could swap with Ron today? It's just,' she continued, 'that my head hurts this morning and I might miss something important if I were working on the case files."

Hotch looked her in the eye suspiciously. He didn't entirely believe her reason for wanting to 'swap' with Ron. He saw her eyes flick ever so slightly to her right, where Ron was sitting, looking even more pale than usual.

_Oh_, Hotch though, _that's why she wants to change groups. He couldn't stomach the dead body_.

He cleared his throat and nodded at Hermione.

"Reid, Morgan and Hermione will inspect the crime scene. My team will stay behind with Garcia and complete the checks on the ASIO employees."

The BAU saw Ron's immense relief and Morgan turned to Garcia.

"Sorry baby girl. Guess I can't stay with you today."

Garcia smiled broadly at Morgan, but before she could assure him it was alright, a creaking noise filled the air. Everyone leapt out of their seats and the BAU agents pulled out their guns. Each person in the room watched apprehensively as the door swung on its hinges. It opened fully and revealed a young man who, upon seeing the guns, gave an effeminate squeak and fell to the ground. Morgan holstered his gun and walked forwards warily. He tapped the young man on the shoulder and then pulled him to his feet when he tried to curl into a ball.

"Who are you?" Prentiss demanded.

"My-my name is Paul. I was delivering your coffee?"

The end of each of his sentences rose up, as though Paul were asking a question. His accent was broader than any they had come across before, and his hair was sun-bleached blonde. Directly negating the effeminate noise he had made, Paul was broad-shouldered and tall. His nose had been broken at least once and his hazel eyes were deep-set.

"What coffee?"

Paul looked at JJ for a moment, as though processing her question in his mind. Then he gestured behind him, where a trolley stood with cups of coffee and an assortment of biscuits.

"Paul-?" Hermione asked, watching the intruder closely.

"Paul Weatherman."

The pause after he said his name began to stretch, before Paul broke in nervously;

"Can I go now?"

Rossi nodded and Paul all but ran from the room, leaving the still full coffee tray behind him.

* * *

**A/N Wooo Chapter 11! So, I got a review I just had to reply to; MoonFaith's. Yeah Bundy wasn't very subtle - but here's my thought process. Instead of straining my imagination and getting writers block to come up with minor character names, I asked my friends of they would feel comfortable if I used their - they're amazing people and said they wouldn't mind being victims. However, I was at a loss to come up with the name of Bellatrix's cousin. I wanted a first name that sounded like Bellatrix, so it would relate back to her in some way. A friend of mine's name is Alexis, so I asked if I use her name for Bellatrix's cousin instead. She said okay, but I felt weird having her name out there in cyberspace, so at the last-minute, I decided to change her last name. I was pretty much just thinking about getting the chapter out there, so I just wrote down the first plausible last name I could think of - which happened to be Bundy, after reading about him earlier. So sorry if it was clichéd :( But there's my thinking, and I hope it doesn't make you all think less of me as a writer because of that. I'll definitely put more thought into names next time.**

**Please review/PM if you think I should edit her name to something else, and if you have any suggestions they would be appreciated!**

Besides that, not much else to say... as always reviews are amazing, and this chapter is dedicated to fushandchupsandeverything :) Hope you and Paul had fun sunbathing in Alaska ;) 3


	13. Chapter 13

**DISCLAIMER: I Do not own Criminal Minds or Harry Potter (unfortunately)**

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**CHAPTER 12: HP's POV - Harry**

When Harry entered the Landau's house the reaction was immediate. Mrs Landau gasped and clutched her chest, her other hand swinging out to the side to support herself on her husband's shoulder. Her fingers dug like claws into his skin, crinkling his perfectly ironed shirt. Mr Landau didn't seem to notice though, since he seemed to have lost control of his jaw upon Harry's entry to the house. Harry could see the confusion marring JJ and Rossi's faces, as they struggled to understand the reaction.  
Harry sighed heavily, and held out his hand to Mr Landau.  
"My name is Harry Potter, Mr Landau. It's a pleasure to meet you – it's a shame it had to be under these circumstances though."  
Mr Landau regained control of his jaw and shook Harry's hand energetically. Harry sensed someone walking up behind him and he turned to see Rossi, also extending his hand.

"Agent Rossi. I'm sorry for your loss, Mr Landau."

That sentence visibly put a dampener on Mr Landau's buoyant mood, and his wife peered at them from behind her husband' shoulder, jowls quivering with unspent tears. JJ held out her hand, her face a careful mask of compassion and empathy.  
"I am agent Jennifer Jarreau. Could we please talk to you about your daughter?"  
Harry could see the suspicion rising slowly in their eyes. Mrs Landau spoke for the first time they had entered the house.  
"Without offending you, we've already talked to the police. You're obviously American – may I ask how you're involved in the case?"  
Rossi gave a soft exclamation.

"Ah…I can see how you might be confused. We're part of the Behaviour Analysis Unit of the FBI. ASIO called us in to consult on this case. We've recently become the main pursuers of the case, excepting the police of course."  
Mr Landau nodded slowly, though Harry could see he was far from accepting. Harry recognized Mr Landau for what he was – a Muggle who thought, since he had knowledge of the magical community when others didn't, that he was better than the other Muggles. It was a common conception that parents of magical children had. Mr Landau was distrustful of agents Rossi and JJ simply on principle – they didn't know of the Wizarding World, and he did. Harry realized that he would have to be on guard to ensure Mr and Mrs Landau didn't make any slip-ups in front of the BAU agents.  
Harry hoped, as the Landau's led them into the living room, that whatever Hermione and Ron were doing, they were having more success than him.

**HP'S POV – RON:**

As he sorted through pile after pile of identical Manilla folders, Ron knew that he had never quite appreciated how tedious menial work could be. It was like being in History of Magic again, Ron decided, with his spectre of a teacher droning on about Hermione-knows-what and his voice being just enough to prevent Ron from falling off the precipice into sleep. Feeling as though ten minutes of work was surely enough to warrant a break, Ron placed a folder containing pictures of the eighth victim, Neneh Forester, on the ground with an air of finality. He eased himself back against the cool wall, stretching his legs out before him. With the look of one who was decidedly pleased, Ron examined the room around him. Prentiss and Hotch were seated together at the large rectangular table that took up most of the room. Neither had noticed he had stopped working yet, but someone had.

Penelope Garcia, the tech analyst, winked at him from across the room. Ron was taken aback for a minute, then attempted to wink back. No matter how much he tried however, he couldn't control just one eye. He had been blinking dementedly at her for a few seconds before he realized how much of an idiot he must look like. He abruptly stopped, feeling a pink tinge stain his cheeks as he watched the petite blonde woman laugh at him. Ron looked down at the ground, suddenly fascinated by the folders littered around him. He heard a chair scrap back, and looked up to see Garcia pulling a chair over to him. Prentiss and Hotch glanced at her briefly, and then looked back to their work – as though it were everyday behaviour for their technical analyst to abandon her work and sit with a stranger red-headed boy. As Ron examined Garcia, he concluded that perhaps it was normal for her. She certainly seemed quite extraordinary, and she wouldn't have looked out-of-place at one of his family parties.

"So, whatcha up to?" She asked, leaning forward to examine the pile of folders on the ground. Ron stared at her in shock for a minute, before he turned and pointed at the separate piles.

"This pile is for victims whose parents are still willing to talk to us, this pile is for the ones whose parents are too grief stricken and the last pile is for victims who have no next of kin at all."  
Garcia looked in concern at the size of the last pie Ron gestured to.

"That's worrying – so many orphans in one group of victims. Do you think it had something to do with the unsub's M.O?"  
Ron's face darkened and he frowned deeply before saying quietly;  
"No, I think it is to do a different matter – a different matter entirely."

**HP'S POV – HERMIONE:**

The peaceful grounds of the cemetery were marred with the stains of hour old blood. The site of Rachel Landau's murder had been untouched since her discovery and her body lay spread eagled on the ground. Hermione regarded her carefully and decided that Rachel looked incredibly graceful in death. She lay, limbs elegantly thrown across the grass, eyes closed to the light of the day. If it weren't for the gaping chest wound revealing the white shards of her ribcage, she might have been asleep. Reid and Morgan examined the body with clinical interest, while the police officers stood at a respectful distant. Hermione felt a tap on her shoulder and she turned to see a police man standing there.  
"Miss, I'm going to have to ask you to move away from the crime scene – this is no place for civilians such as yourself."

Hermione opened her mouth to retort that she had as much right to be there as him, when a slim arm reached over her shoulder, an open Identity folder in hand.  
"Dr Spencer Reid with the Behaviour Analysis Unit of the FBI. Miss Hermione Granger is my consultant."  
The police officer closely examined the card Reid held, as though expecting to find a flaw.

"Oi Spiro!' Yelled another officer. 'Leave 'er alone and get back to your job you lazy mongrel!"  
Like a wounded animal, Spiro walked away with a muttered 'Ma'am' to Hermione. She nodded her head in acknowledgement and turned to face Reid. He had put away his I.D card and was checking the fastening on his holster. Hermione wondered aloud if he realized he had called her 'my consultant'. Reid's head jerked up and he stared at her, eyes wide. Before he had a chance to reply, Morgan walked up.

"Apart from the overkill, there isn't much that differentiated this murder from the rest."

Reid cleared his throat and addressed only Morgan, unaware that his cheeks were currently strawberry red.  
"That's not true. The name of the cemetery, I'm not sure if you saw, but this is a private cemetery – all the rest were dumped in public cemeteries. That may or may not be an indicator to the unusb's identity."

Hermione could tell that Reid wasn't going to talk to her until he overcame his embarrassing slip of the tongue, so she walked a short distance away and looked at the crime scene as a whole for the first time. The sun beat down on the back of her exposed neck, and Hermione could tell she was going to tan. It was hotter here than it had ever been when she was in France, the sun crueller warmth drained of moisture. She could hear the incessant buzzing of the flies, and was grateful they had left the body alone. The whole area had a different feel than the other cemetery Hermione had visited with Harry and Ron – a more malevolent feeling. She suspected it had much to do with the scenery – overgrown grass and dilapidated tombstones. Whoever owned this cemetery hadn't been here in a very long time.  
_Wait…_

The thought clicked in Hermione's head and she ran up to Morgan and Reid.  
"This place looks deserted and completely neglected right?"  
They both nodded cautiously, as though she had completely lost her mind. Neither was following her though process.

"Who owns this place? Either they haven't been here in a long time, or they really don't care about the state of it."  
Reid's eyes opened wider in realization as he understood what she was saying. Morgan had already called a police officer over and was questioning them.  
"Uh,' the police officer started, opening a small pocket-book and scratching his head with a pencil. 'It doesn't say…maybe Darlene has it - Darlene?!"  
A petite woman walked over at his call, looking curiously at the assembled group.

"Darlene, do you know who this cemetery belongs to?"  
The woman, Darlene, nodded brightly and scanned the small book she held in her hand.

"This is listed to a Mr Weatherman…Some kind of old business man – here's his address." She said, holding out a slip of paper to Morgan. He thanked her and the two police moved off, leaving Morgan, Reid and Hermione. Reid was looking confused and Hermione was frowning slightly in concentration. Morgan examined the two of them and asked;

"What's bothering you?"  
"It's that name,' Reid started, 'I've heard it somewhere before…"  
He trailed off, and then jumped when Hermione snapped her fingers in triumph.

"The coffee man!" She announced proudly.  
Morgan raised his eyebrows, then nodded as her realized who she was talking about.  
"That's right!" Reid exclaimed.

Morgan had his phone out and was dialling Garcia.

"Hey baby girl. You want to rustle up some information for me?"  
Hermione barely heard the murmured sound of Garcia's consent on the other end of the line; she was thinking about the man she had seen that first time – slipping acid down the dying girl's throat. He somewhat resembled the man who had come into ASIO yesterday at the most inopportune time, but something about his features was different. The man in ASIO had been more mature, like a star athlete going to seed. Hermione knew it wasn't a glamor charm changing his appearance – he was a Muggle, and she knew a glamor charm when she saw one.  
She had to use one every morning to cover up that horrid scar.  
Hermione shook her head, refusing to believe the only possibility. Surely no one was sick enough…?

In doubt of herself, Hermione interrupted Morgan before he hung up, asking if she could talk to Ron. Morgan considered her briefly, then spoke into the phone;

"Garcia, could you get Ron – Hermione wants to talk to him?"

She heard a chirpy reply, and a brief look cross Reid's face that Hermione didn't understand. Shrugging it off, she concentrated on the problem at hand. Walking a short distance away from the BAU agents, Hermione closed her hand around the phone, ensuring no sound would escape.  
"Ron, can you hear me? Are you somewhere you can talk alone?"

She spoke as quietly as possible, thanking her and Harry's good sense that had led them to teach Ron proper phone etiquette. She heard Ron's equally quiet reply come back.

"Yes. What's the matter Hermione?"

"Ron, Garcia already knows this, so I expect you'll hear it soon, but the man who delivered us coffee the other day owns this cemetery."  
"So?"  
"So, he's also the man that we saw tipping acid down that poor girl's throat."  
There was a pause as Ron digested this information, and Hermione swept on before he could speak.  
"I know they look completely different, and since he's a Muggle we can rule out a glamor charm, but I think I know what he's doing."  
"Tell me Hermione!"  
"He's using his dead Father's hair in a polyjuice potion."

* * *

**A/N This chapter is dedicated to MoonFaith :)  
So...I know I should be rationing chapters out, but I've just finished this so my immediate reaction was to post it straight away :)  
**

**Ahem! For those of you waiting for some more Spencer/Hermione time...it will come - I promise! I just haven't had the chance to fit any in, and to be honest I'm a little apprehensive about it. Anyway, I promise, cross my heart, that something will happen between the two of them between the end of the story (other than a broken nose). **

**Hope you enjoyed this chapter! Review if you want, they're always welcome believe me :D 3**

**P.S The vic name mentioned here, Neneh Forester, is pronounced Nina. It's just an awesomer spelling ;)**


	14. Chapter 14

"_The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is that good men do nothing."_

_-Edmund Burke_

Meanwhile, in the evil lair…

A beautiful woman lounged elegantly in a wicker chair in the corner of the room. Gazing towards the roof, she slowly twirled a ringlet of raven coloured hair around her finger.  
"Lexis?"  
A tall blonde man walked through a door through which a gleaming bathroom was visible. He was holding a tea towel, with which he slowly and laboriously cleaned his hands with. The woman in the chair gave no indication that she had heard him, instead raising a thin, visibly grained stick of a deep coloured wood in front of her face for consideration.

"Hello? Are you even listening?"  
Again, no response came, and the man walked over and stood in front of her chair, right in her line of vision. He clicked his tongue in annoyance, until she finally responded by raising her head. Gazing out from under her eyelashes, she asked calmly;

"What do you want, Paul?"  
He held out the towel he had been clutching at his side, unravelling the scrunched up material until it hung limply between his hands. Without moving, she examined the pale cloth, splattered with a deep red, crusting material. Suddenly, the drying blood vanished, leaving a spotless cloth in the man's hands. He looked down and, seeing it was clean, bunched it up into a ball and tossed it carelessly to the side, where it landed in a crumpled heap on cluttered side table. Ignoring the sheets of paper that fluttered to the floor in the towel's wake, Paul began speaking quickly.

"We're starting to run out of ice. Not only that, but I can see in the servo employee's eyes that he doesn't trust me. You know what he said to his work mate last time I left? He said – no person with good intentions buys that much ice. He suspects me! You have to do something about it Lexis!"  
Staring him intently in the eyes, Lexis considered him closely before replying in a measured voice;

"Paul, the polyjuice potion won't last forever. Unless you haven't realized, after death the hair and fingernails stop growing after ten days – your Father has been dead for ten years. No matter if you use only one strand of hair in every drink, it is not an inexhaustible resource."  
Paul spluttered, while Lexis looked listlessly about, before rising slowly from the chair. She stretched fluidly, pushing stray hair from her face. She started towards a solid wooden door, her shoes making a soft click with every step. Paul regained his voice and he opened his mouth to talk, but Lexis beat him to it.  
"They've involved the Minister for Magic."

Paul jerked violently, as though shocked by an invisible electric current. He raised wide eyes to Lexis' face, but she was fixedly examining the ground before her.  
"But-no! They…he…What are we going to do?!"  
Turning quickly, Lexis quickly advanced. Although Paul had nearly a foot on her, she radiated power and he cringed backwards. Frowning fiercely, Lexis said;

"We will continue on as we have been. Nothing has changed. The incompetent fools working on this case will never know we exist. I am not my cousin – she was a psychotic bitch. As long as you have done your job, we are in no danger from the authorities."  
At that, Paul averted his gaze. Like a fox that has scented a rabbit, Lexis pounced on this evident weakness.

"What did you do?" she hissed, her eyes narrowing dangerously.  
He shook his head, his resolution in not answering quickly apparent. With a sudden flick of her wrist, Paul was on the floor. His screams echoed around the enclosed space, as his spine contorted strangely. Muscles tensing to braking point, the tendons in Paul's neck stood out – and all the while Lexis' expression never changed. She calmly pointed her wand at the prone figure on the floor, before twitching it a centimetre to the left, away from Paul. Shaking in exertion, he curled himself into the foetal position, tremors running through him.  
"I'll ask once more – what did you do?"  
Her voice didn't rise above a whisper, but there was no mistaking the threat in it. Paul's body, almost inert from shock, gave a horrible dry retching sound. He didn't delay in answering however.

"I dumped the body in Dad's family cemetery, and when I was at work the other day, I – I just couldn't resist. I went to see them."  
There was a dreadful pause, and Paul gave a great sob.

"Stop your whining!"  
Immediately, Paul tried to reign in the sobs racking his body. He began to hiccup, and when he raised his face upwards, his face was gaunt and pale. The tears had left his eyes red, and the tear tracks shone against his tanned skin.

"You look like an avenging angel." Paul whispered hoarsely, before giggling maniacally from the floor. A black flash against the floor was the only signal before Paul had the wind knocked out of him. There was no outward change in Lexis' demeanour, but inside she was screaming.

_How could he have been so stupid?_

From the floor, Paul curled inwards to where he had been kicked, before gasping out;

"I quit my job. It'll be harder for them to find me now."

Looking murderous, Lexis gave a curt nod.  
"That's the only intelligent thing you've ever done in your life."  
Leaving Paul laying on the floor, Lexis started again towards the solid wooden door. A choking noise sounded, before the unconnected sounds resolved themselves into words.  
"Who's next?"  
At that, a broad smile stretched almost completely across her face. It closely resembled a clown's smile, though this was infinitely more twisted and dark. Although Paul couldn't see it, he shivered, raising himself into a sitting position on the floor.  
"A lovely young man that was a year above me – he was disgustingly proud about his parentage, parading it around and boasting about a brother who played 'football'.' She gave a derisive snort, before turning to stare Paul right in the eyes. 'Murray's going regret that, when I'm through with him."

With those parting words, she opened the door and walked through, closing it behind her with finality. The bang echoed, reverberating like a death knoll for the ill-fated Murray.

* * *

**A/N Hello! I drew myself away from the world of maths to write this, so I hope it's okay! :)  
**

**I've had a review I need to respond to:  
woozle1975:**

**Just to let all of you know. I'm only recently 15. This is my first attempt at writing. In other words, please, please dont expect this story to be perfect! **

**Anyway thank you woozle for your constructive criticism. The point have been noted and taken into consideration. However, I feel I need to address some of the points you made:**

**1. From the best of my research, ASIO deals with internal threats to Australia and her people. This research is from reading the ASIO website and picking the brains of some ex-defence force. If you could tell me how I went wrong with that info it would be really appreciated. ASIO called the BAU in particular, not the FBI in general. Not only that, but after 10 brutal killings, but ASIO was bound to get involved, and the experts were also going to get involved. For the purpose of this story, those experts are Hotch and his team. **

**2. I think it makes perfect sense for Malfoy to run to Australia. Especially after all that happened. I never mentioned his age? And without being incredibly rude, Australia is hardly a colony anymore. As for your other information about Draco - patience, my parents always tell me, is a virtue. ;)**

**3. Again, I'm sure I never said they were teenagers. I believe what I did is called AU? Alternate universe, I messed with the timelines a bit, and Hermione is about 22, while Spencer is 28. These people are the only key to a string of horrible deaths - they aren't about to refuse them just because of one thing, even if it is a lie. Also, someone has told me I forgot to have them checked out, so Im getting onto that.**

**4. Canberra! I could have sworn I left clues, but maybe I wasn't explicit enough and I left it up in my head. Why would you think Melbourne or Sydney is more likely? Please tell me - I may move it if its more plausible that way.**

**Thank you so much, your input is valued and I know the story will be better for it. **


	15. Chapter 15

**DISCLAIMER: The awesome parts of the story (characters) belong to Miss J.K Rowling and Jeff Davis. The rest, the less awesome stuff, that belongs to me. **

* * *

**Chapter 13: BAU'S POV**

Gathered sombrely around the wooden table, each of the BAU gazed expectantly at the door. Total silence prevailed, so quiet it resembled, however metaphorically, a tomb. No one made eye contact with their neighbours, each too involved with themselves and their thoughts to consider others. The exception sat cautiously on the edge of his chair, red hair mussed chaotically and his facial expression of absolute worry turned to the woman on his right. Hermione barely noticed, as self-involved as everyone else. A slight creak issued forth from the wooden door, as it swung forwards on its rarely oiled hinges. As a single group, every member of the room leant slightly forward, collective blinks and sighs revealing the tension. A suited shoulder preceded its owner through the door. In an expectant atmosphere, Agent Hotchner seated himself at the head of the table. Procrastinating, he straightened his jacket sleeves and rearranged the already perfect papers in front of him. A throat was cleared in an impatient way, and Hotch looked up, meeting each set of eyes in turn. He took a calming breath in; unaware each second he delayed was making the people in the room more apprehensive.

"I have just had a meeting with Ms Port and several others."

He paused after this statement, though this time there were no objections to his silence.

"It seems that the day we met Mr Weatherman, under his coffee disguise, was the day he filed his resignation with ASIO."

Rossi narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

"That's no coincidence."

Hotch nodded grimly.

"He also doesn't have a registered address as of five weeks ago; exactly one day before the first body was found."

Eyebrows were raised all around the table. There was no doubt in any of their minds now that the man they were searching for indeed Paul Weatherman. Hotch consulted the meticulous noted spread out before him and then look up at Garcia.

"Can you check him out? Check out social networking sites, any internet banking and-"

"No need to spell it out for me, honey.' She tapped rapidly at the keyboard in front of her, eyes fixed to the screen as she worked with single minded determination. 'Hey, tall, dark and handsome, can you turn the projector screen on for me?"  
Morgan stood and pulled the screen down with barely concealed impatience. Garcia barely spared him a glance, instead asking for the connection cable with a grimace. She was used to wireless connections and immediate reactions, not slow loading times and wires everywhere. In a short space of time however, an image of Garcia's screen appeared on the larger screen and everyone in the room leaned forward in fascination.  
"So our Mr Weatherman had a normal internet presence for any man in his twenties. He played the occasional online game, had accounts on the more prominent social networking sites and had even begun to complete his tax returns and other financial issues on the internet. All of this stopped about two years ago – when he started working at a herbalist store. From the moment he started working there he began to slowly decrease his internet time, as well as his other interaction with technology. Now, the interesting thing about this story is, my lovelies that it doesn't exist."  
With that statement, Garcia sat down, promptly regaining a fascination with her computer. It seemed she was as confused with her findings as the rest of the room – who were looking around in confusion at their neighbours, as though waiting for denial of what they had just said. JJ was the first to speak.

"Do you mean he lied about being employed?"  
Garcia shook her head.

"He was employed alright. He has the pay records and everything.' Garcia blinked slightly and then moved closer to the computer screen. 'Huh. That's weird."  
She clicked her fingers and gestured toward the projector screen.  
"Direct your attention thataway. This is the last registered tax return entered for Mr Paul Waldemar Weatherman, and he clearly was employed when he entered this; however he does something quite interesting – he doesn't list his place of employment. Yet, according to his social networking page, he is employed at Warsure's Emporium."

Reid scratched the side of his head, displacing the hair on that side and making his head seem lopsided.

"Where exactly is Warsure's Emporium, Garcia?"  
Garcia smiled radiantly at him.

"Good question. Since it doesn't exist however, I have no idea."

"I do."  
Every head in the room snapped toward the soft words from Malfoy. He smiled slightly at the look on everyone's faces; which quickly became a smirk when he saw the obvious anger on Ron's face.  
"Don't look so angry Weasley; you go almost the same disgusting shade as your hair."  
Ron attempted to lunge at him, but was stopped by Harry. He gave his friend a frustrated look, and then whispered in his ear. The he nodded at him, receiving a grudging nod in return and they both turned to face Malfoy.  
"What do you have to say Malfoy?"  
"Well, I have been here considerably longer than you, so don't be too surprised. Warsure's Emporium is on Third Street."  
There was a cacophony of scrapes as every chair in the room was pushed back to allow its owner to stand. Hotch, thinking quickly, began listing instructions to the impatiently apprehensive group.

"Reid, Rossi, JJ, Hermione and Draco, you're in one group. Prentiss, Harry, Ron and Morgan, you're with me. This is the only connection we have to Weatherman. He and his accomplice may be located if this goes according to plan. We'll take two vehicles – there's no need for anymore. Garcia, you stay here. You know the drill people – this time though, we're in another country, here on their good will and need. Let's not mess it up."

The two groups filed out, but not before Hermione, Harry and Ron convened quickly in the corner of the room. The BAU watched them warily, while Malfoy stood off to the side. Reid stood as close to Hotch as he could, and he asked as quietly as possible;

"When do we confront them about Garcia's results?"  
Hotch breathed in, and saw that each of his agents was watching him.  
"Soon, very soon. This trip won't be the end of this – I can feel it. After this, we'll get them."

Unbeknownst to them, Malfoy had spelled a pair of extendable ears to be invisible; and as such, he heard every word they said. With a thoughtful look on his face, he followed the Americans from the room, only just aware that Harry, Ron and Hermione were right behind him.

* * *

Draco sat in the front seat, next to Morgan, giving out exact directions to Warsure's Emporium. Hermione, Reid and JJ were scrunched uncomfortably into the back seat, the close confines ensuring that each time they hit a bump in the road or made a turn, they were each thrown unexpectedly into each other's personal space. If Hermione turned, she could see the identical car in which Harry and Ron were travelling in. They had been travelling for only ten minutes, but it seemed that in such a small city, they surely must have arrived at the location by now. Hermione, along with JJ and Reid, watched Malfoy suspiciously, unsure of where he was leading them and wary of the blind faith they had placed in his one statement.

The car began to slow down, and Hermione looked out of the window at the new surroundings. The street they were in was an interesting conglomeration of old residential buildings and a few odd shops of the newsagent kind. Morgan turned to look at Malfoy, and was answered before he could ask the question.

"This is it."

Reid and JJ traded a look, each wondering where, exactly the mysterious herbalist store, Warsure's Emporium was. The two teams slowly exited the vehicles, but before they could move anywhere, a command was issued by Hotch.

"Put some vests on them."

Malfoy and Ron looked intensely confused, while Hermione and Harry were cut off before they could protest. Each was handed a Kevlar vest, and the team stood as still as statues while they waited for the four to put them on. Harry and Hermione traded a dark look, before beginning to fasten them on. Malfoy held his up by the tip of pinkie finger, his arm extended out and away from his body, as though to limit contact with the item. His lip curled, and he shook the vest slightly.  
"Is this some kind of joke? Why would I want to wear such a garish thing?"

He eyes the word branded across the chest and tested the thickness of the vest carefully with his other hand. Decidedly, he dropped the vest to the ground.  
"I will not wear that."  
The BAU agents all raised their eyebrows. Morgan swooped and, in one smooth movement, picked the vest from the ground and shook it clean.  
"Unless you're Superman and impervious to bullets, you'll wear it."  
He held it out and, coupled with a menacing look on his face, persuaded himself that_ that _was the reason Malfoy took the vest.  
Malfoy, of course, knew it was for another reason entirely.

He could just see the headlines of the newspapers – "Ex Death Eater Minister besmirches Malfoy name forever by performing magic in the presence of Muggles."  
That wouldn't happen.  
Ron was still considering his vest, wondering what on Earth its use was. He saw that Harry and Hermione had put theirs on without any complaint, so of course he should as well. He pulled it over his head and began fastening it. Ron could just image the look on his Father's face if he saw the technology Ron had been surrounded with. The imagined expression of absolute glee and complete fascination made Ron smile. He missed his family. After being surrounded his whole life by numerous people and fluctuating amounts of people always around him, it was a shock to only have two other people with him.  
Morgan and Hotch nodded as soon as everyone had their vests on. There was only one problem, Hotch realised…

"Do any of you know how to use a gun?"  
Instantly, the expression of Malfoy's face became one of snooty disapproval.  
"Of course not! Filthy Mu-Murderous objects."  
Despite noting that he had changed words in the middle of his sentence, no one brought it up – there were more important things at hand.  
Ron, Harry and Hermione each shook their heads in turn, each of their denials infinitely quieter than Draco's. Hotch nodded as his suspicions were concerned.  
"I doubt there will be guns involved here, but even so – I want you to stay in the car. We cannot possibly involve civilians in this kind of operation. No matter how helpful they have been thus far."  
Harry and Ron began to protest loudly, unaware of what they were saying. Hermione hushed the two of them – Ron had begun to say they had been through much worse.  
It certainly wasn't something they were permitted to reveal to Muggles.  
As they quietened in a disgruntled manner, Malfoy asked quietly;

"How will you find Warsure's Emporium, if I am waiting in the car?"

The team delegated to Hotch, and he gazed in amazement at the arrogance of that statement.  
"Are you saying that if you aren't involved, you won't help us?"  
Malfoy smiled and his cunning turned the expression into a sneer.  
"I'm saying that without me, you wouldn't have found this place. Leave Potter and Weasley in the car if you must – they are raving idiots whose very presence could endanger this operation. It's up to you about Granger though – she's not half hopeless."

Hermione raised her eyebrows and gave a soft snort of indignation at that. Harry and Ron began protesting again, but Hotch raised a hand.

"Alright, here are the rules. You come in – you stay to the back. If any weapons are drawn, you get out immediately. Stick close in your teams."  
Harry and Ron gave triumphant smiles, and Hermione gave a Draco a nod of thanks. Almost imperceptibly, he returned it.

Hotch waved them into their two teams, and Draco moved with Hermione towards the front of their team to locate Warsure's Emporium. As Draco walked confidently forward, he whispered to Hermione;

"We're currently in Australia's version of Diagon Alley. To open the door to Warsure's, I'm going to need a distraction. When I say, 'here it is,' I want you to do something, anything, to get their attention away from me. Alright?"  
Hermione nodded, already deep in thought.  
Malfoy lead them down the seemingly abandoned street. He stopped at the entrance to an old newsagency. Its façade, painted with an advertisement for an ice-cream, was faded, the blues not as bold as they must have been. To Muggles, it must have looked perfectly normal. Harry, Ron, Hermione and Draco could sense the Magic in the place though. Malfoy lead them into the shop, pushing aside the plastic blinds, holding them back in a gesture of manners Hermione didn't know he had for everyone – except Harry and Ron, whom he let the blinds crash into. He then gave a brisk nod to the owner, who opened up the hatch separating him and the area for the customers. Malfoy gestured them to go through, and, curious looks aside, everyone obeyed. Malfoy lead them through the cooler, then to a small, inconspicuous side room in the back of the shop. He gestured grandly;

"Here it is!"  
Hermione looked at him quickly, then subtly so the BAU agents wouldn't see, pulled her wand out and cast a Transfiguration spell on the umbrella stand. Then, she screamed.

"Grawp! I haven't seen you forever, what are you doing here?!"

With startling efficiency, each of the BAU agents turned quickly; ready to assess the potential threat. Before they could register anything though, Hermione stripped the Transfiguration from the hat stand with a flick of her wand.  
The BAU agents were left staring at a hat stand. In turn, they turned to look at her, suspicion clearly clouding their faces.  
Morgan whispered to Prentiss;

"This confirms it."  
She nodded, her expression hard, but before anyone could say anything, Harry stumbled to her rescue.

"That does look like Grawp if you look really quickly. Grawp', he told the sceptically attentive agents, 'is an old friend of ours. He had something of the stands, uh, height."

JJ shook her head.

"Worst lie ever." She said to Reid, who nodded in absolute agreement.  
Rossi was, however, focusing his attention on something completely different.

"I'm certain that was there before."  
Everyone turned to see what he was talking about, and was confronted by a mind warping sight.  
Malfoy stood before a metal door, set into the bricks. Except, they weren't bricks anymore. The whole room had become encased in corrugated metal, reminiscent of the kind used to build sheds. Malfoy stretched out a hand towards the metal handle. With a twist, he opened the door onto impossible, absolute darkness.  
"After you."  
And so six, brave Behavioural Profilers led the way into the encompassing darkness, small lights trying vainly to penetrate the blanketing darkness. They were followed by three courageous lions and a conniving snake.  
And at the back, bringing up the rear, a cloaked maniac, gloved hand outstretched clutching a vial of clear, lethal acid.

* * *

**A/N Wow, it has been AGES since I've updated! Sorry. *Sheepish expression* Anyways if there are any mistakes, which hopefully there aren't, but if there are, its because I wrote this in an awful hurry. It's kind of 40 odd degrees outside, and I'm dying for a swim, so :D I really hope you liked it, and there was a little Spencer/Hermione in this chapter, which unfortunately got moved to the next because of the length of this chapter. But never fear! I will start updating regularly again, because hey, no school :) **

**Without giving away too much, there isn't much more of this story, so I want to take the opportunity to thank EVERY SINGLE PERSON WHO READ THIS STORY. You are all amazing! And REVIEWERS: I need a new language to describe how much I love you all! **

**Thank you all and please, keep reviewing 3 **


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N You know the drill: I own nothing. **

**Quick warning! This chapter will have the POV jumping around quite a bit, though hopefully it will be easy to understand still :D Without further ado – please, read on!**

Chapter 14: Hermione's POV

The minute everyone was inside the darkened room, the metal door swung shut with an ominous creak, followed in quick succession by a bone rattling CLANG! as the only entry and exit was slammed closed and locked. A sarcastic snort came from the absolute darkness, followed by Malfoy's voice.

"I saw that one coming a mile away."

Hermione rolled her eyes in the darkness, forgetting that no one could see. She held her arms out in front of her and marvelled at the lack of sight. If they were in another situation, she would have loved extra time to sit and experience this.  
As it was, she could feel her heartbeat increasing, though her breathing stayed calm. She heard shuffling and coughs, and swore she could hear someone behind her breathing heavily.  
"Hermione?"

She turned her head towards where she though the voice came from; though it was hard to tell – it seemed to come from everywhere at once. It sounded like Ron…

A hand grasped Hermione's left forearm and pulled. She overbalanced and before she could scream, was falling, paralysed to the floor. She hit with an audible thud, though she could emit no noise - someone had cast a full body bind on her.

Hermione concentrated as hard as she could, focusing on a wandless charm to cancel the spell. To her utter shock, nothing happened. Before she could contain it, she felt cold fear creeping through her, freezing her limbs and slowing her mind. Who had cast the spell? Very few people (that still lived) were better than Hermione at spell work. The thumping of her heart accelerated and she knew that if she hadn't been paralysed, every inch of her would have been shaking in fear.

* * *

Reid's POV:  
Reid was completely confused. It wasn't a feeling he had very often, and he decided it wasn't an experience he wanted to repeat. The closing of the door had intrigued him and put him on edge – someone must have followed them in; someone who wasn't an ally. He had heard Ron's timid voice coming from his left; 'Hermione?' Reid had winced and waited for the reaction. When there was none, he started to worry. What was happening? At that moment he heard a thud, as though someone had fallen. In that instant, he felt an intense fear – what if that was Hermione? He realized in that instant that the feelings that accompanied that though were akin to those he had felt when he thought he had lost Emily – devastation and grief. Reid shook his head – it was folly to entertain such thoughts at a time like this!  
That led him back to the present problem – trapped in a locked room with someone who meant them harm and with no visibility to speak of.  
Why weren't their lights working?

Reid moved his gaze down toward his light. It was shining, the white beam clearly visible – but it wasn't penetrating the darkness around him at all. He shone it around him, towards what logic told him was the exit.

Nothing.

The impossibility of the situation began to overwhelm Reid. One of their team (for he was sure the thud had come from the direction in which Harry, Ron, Hermione and Draco were standing) was injured, they had no sight and they were locked in.  
At that moment however, fluorescent light flooded the room.

* * *

Harry's POV:  
Blinking in the sudden light, Harry was aware of only one thing.

Hermione was nowhere to be seen.  
Turning in a rapid circle, Harry surveyed the small room they were in, not absorbing any details about the room itself – instead set on locating Hermione.

When he didn't find her anywhere, he looked in anger towards the BAU agents. They gave no indication of noticing Hermione's absence, save one.  
Spencer Reid.

He met Harry's eyes, similar anger reflected clearly on his face. Harry was about to begin a tirade against them – accusing them of neglect and worse, when he saw the reason they hadn't noticed Hermione's absence. Their eyes were all turned toward the middle of the room.

Two people stood there – a man and a woman.

The man was the one they had seen giving the poor girl acid in the cemetery. His handsome face was twisted into a proud, despicable smirk.  
The woman was Bellatrix Lestrange's double.  
Chills made their halting progress down Harry's back, and a collage of all the melancholy caused by Bellatrix clouded Harry's mind.

She met his eyes with a slight smile which looked, for the entire world, completely normal.  
If you disregarded the rotten soul that caused the smile to be.

With a mocking curtsey, Alexis Blake acknowledged the room.

"Harry Potter himself! My, my, didn't killing the Dark Lord create enough renown for you? You can't just be famous back in dear old England – no, you have to catch evil Bellatrix Lestrange's cousin as well!' She had been addressing the space over Harry's shoulder when, with a snap, her head and eyes gave Harry her direct attention. 'Sorry, it won't be that easy."  
She reached down near the side of her robes, and the BAU agents leapt into action.

* * *

Hotch's POV:  
"Miss Blake, I'm going to ask you to put your hands in the air – please take your hand out of your pocket."  
Hotch was beginning to sweat in the close confines of what appeared to be a warehouse. He kept an authoritative tone in his voice, not allowing anyone to see how worried he was. He had noted Hermione's absence the minutes the lights had come on, though he had immediately turned his attention to the more immediate threat of Alexis Blake and Paul Weatherman.  
Not entirely to his surprise, Alexis took no notice of his request. She continues to reach for her pocket. Hotch realized he had to make a move.

"Miss Blake…Alexis. I'm warning you – if you produce a weapon we will shoot to kill."  
With the oddest of smiles, Alexis moved quickly. She produced a…stick?  
"Try it."

Hotch carefully regarded her. She held her stick much as he held his gun. A second too late, he realized it was pointed at his chest. He pulled the trigger of his gun and, in the same instant, was pulled forcefully off his feet and thrown several metres. The impact knocked Hotch against an end table – it softened the landing slightly, but his head hit the lamp which had been sitting harmlessly on the table.

He felt the warm, smooth spread of blood as it ran down his head. As chaos erupted, his last though was; _At least it's not internal._

* * *

Hermione's POV:

Frozen as she was, Hermione was still able to observe everything.

She watched with concern as Hotch was thrown by one of the most powerful stupefy she had ever seen. Hermione could only think how lucky he was that she had not yet advanced to the Unforgivable Curses.

In reaction to the attack on Hotch, every agent with a gun aimed straight at Alexis' heart. She simply laughed, as though they were children, as though their weapons couldn't harm her. A shot was fired; though by who, Hermione couldn't tell. Others followed in quick succession, but none reached her. Hermione realized, with a sense of horror and, despite herself, awe, was Alexis was doing. She was using a modified shield charm – that stopped anything from reaching her. Hermione looked around for Harry and Ron. Neither had their wands in their hands, and they were exchanging confused glances. Malfoy was looking more competent. He stood where the agents wouldn't see him and held his wand at the ready. As yet it seemed, he was on the defensive. At that moment Ron, who had been standing closest to her when the door was slammed shut, took a step back – shaking his head animatedly.  
Hermione mentally cringed, as that one backwards step lead him straight onto her outstretched arm. If she had a voice, she would have expressed her pain most audibly. As it was, she lay, a prisoner within her own body.  
It seemed though, that Ron was as smart as she sometimes hoped he was.  
"Hermione?!" He gasped, leaning down to where he thought she was. Harry and Draco turned their heads, quickly moving to Ron's side.  
"She must be under a disillusionment charm!"

Ron produced his wand and began muttering all the counter spells he knew. Malfoy watched on in disdain for a minute, before pushing Ron brutally to one side. He pointed his wand at her heart with uncanny accuracy and stared hard for a second. He spoke not a word, but she began to feel a loosening in her limbs, and then Hermione could see strands of her own hair stretching across the floor. Before the curse was completely lifted however, there was a shout from Alexis. Hermione didn't see what she did, but Harry, Ron and Draco were thrown to one side, and she again felt heaviness in her limbs. Inside her head, Hermione screamed wordlessly, before her mind became foggy. Like a puppet, she raised her again visible self to a standing position. A suggestion flitted into Hermione's head and she obeyed. At the back of her mind, she knew she was under the imperious curse – but they were such wonderful ideas…

Hermione walked, somewhat jerkily to stand next to Alexis. A hand was wrapped mercilessly in her knotted hair, and the fog suddenly faded. Pain returned and Hermione gave a gasp as the roots of her hair were ripped from her scalp. Her head was tilted cruelly towards the ceiling, leaving Hermione's throat exposed. She recognised it was a favourite move of Bellatrix's. Hermione felt a wand scrape the curve of her neck and she swallowed deeply. She would not let this woman hear her scream. Unexpectedly, her arm was pulled from her side and held out – scar up. Hermione felt a twist and a snap as the glamour charm on her arm faded. Several people inhaled sharply, and one person gave a dramatic gasp.

They had seen her scar.

* * *

BAU's POV:  
It was identical to every victim's – although this scar was, perhaps, written more childishly. It looked like a child's writing lesson gone horribly wrong. Carved into her skin, barely healed, were the crudely formed letters; M-U-D-B-L-O-O-D. Reid's didn't feel disgust – strangely he felt hurt, as though he had a right to know about the scar. Which he didn't.

In the aftermath of that revelation that left Reid and the BAU agents' stock still with shock, Hermione reacted immediately. Reid watched in apprehension and hope as she produced another stick from her pocket. She pointed it, without any flourishes, straight at Alexis' heart. A red spark erupted from the slender tip and threw the other woman off-balance. With that one action, Hermione was free, and a battle begun.

Reid turned his attention toward Paul Weatherman. He had not moved an inch since they had entered the room and he still wore the same disgusting expression.  
"Take him _alive_!" Morgan commanded.

Reid moved with practised ease in conjunction with his friends. The knowledge that he was going to have to face up to his crimes seemed to strike Paul in an instant, and he turned and began running towards a door at the other end of the room. Morgan holstered his gun and took off running, Reid, JJ and Prentiss in hot pursuit. Rossi also holstered his gun, before moving to take stock of Hotch's condition. He had complete faith the young agents would catch Weatherman. Rossi almost baulked at the site of his friend covered in blood and completely motionless. He took his phone out, intending to call an ambulance – before he realized he didn't know the address.

"Shit!" He hissed before leaning over to check Hotch's breathing.

Faint, but there.

Closing his eyes briefly in gratitude, he settled himself against the edge of the couch. Hotch would be alright.

Morgan caught Weatherman several metres before the door, reading him his rights and handcuffing him. Reid holstered his gun, registering for the first time the flashes like Christmas lights coming from the direction of the battling women. At that instant, he registered a flash of green streaking towards Hermione. He saw the shock and horror on Harry, Ron and Draco's faces. If that green light hit Hermione…

"NO!"

The yell was torn from Reid's lungs, and he threw himself in abandon towards Hermione. A feeling of dread overwhelmed him and he felt as though he were moving in slow motion. He knew he wouldn't reach her, and in vain desperation he ran faster. He drew his gun as a last resort, comforting himself with the thought of revenge. He pointed it towards Alexis, but before he could react, his gun was thrown forcibly from his hand, the butt smoking mysteriously. Hand smarting and half in shock, Reid gazed at the gun, before turning, half in dread, to look towards Hermione. She was standing absolutely still, her arm outstretched and her hand, white knuckled, also clutching a smooth wooden stick. Reid's mind moved slower than his body, for as long as it took to register Hermione was still alive, he had already moved forward quickly, and his arms were crossed around the back of her head, crushing her to his chest. He breathed deeply, until he heard a cough and a gasp from Hermione. He released her quickly although his hands kept a hold of her forearms. She took a deep breath in and smiled at him. Reid smiled tentatively in return.

"Are you okay?"

Hermione nodded, and a slight blush covered her cheeks.

"Just suffocating is all."

Following an idea he wasn't sure had originated from, he smoothed a strand of tangled hair back from her face. Hermione's eyes widened and the colour in her cheeks deepened. Reid examined her closely, his hands tightening slightly on her arms. Hermione stood a little taller, and Reid's head inclined towards hers.

"Reid! Not the time!

Morgan's yell sounded from near an open doorway. Reid saw it was the way through which they entered and loosened his hold on Hermione.  
Alexis was nowhere to be seen.  
He turned as quickly as he could back to Hermione – and there she was.

She stood, smirking just behind Hermione's shoulder. She was pointing the hateful object straight at Hermione's head, and Hermione was doing the same. Both had equal looks of determination on their faces, and neither was displaying any awareness of the world around them.  
With an eerie laugh, Alexis lowered her wand.  
"I'll come for you Mudblood – don't think I won't. Your kind shouldn't be allowed to live, let alone sully the prowess of the greatness we have built."  
"Try it.' Hermione stated simply. 'I _survived_ the war against Voldemort. Unlike Bellatrix."  
Alexis shrugged her shoulders in a smooth motion.

"Bellatrix was crazy. I'm not."  
Hermione gave a laugh then.

"Might want to recheck that – you've killed so many people, all in the name of dirty blood. But look,' she said, tipping her hand so blood from an unknown cut dripped to the ground. 'Does it look any different than yours?"

Alexis gave a snort of disapproval.

"I don't care for the colour of your blood – I know you're dirty, all the way through. Dolores Umbridge had the right idea – Imprison you for wand stealing and let the Dementors do their work. We can debate that another time though – I'll see you again, Hermione Granger."  
With a crack, she disappeared. Paul moaned from the ground, but no one paid him any mind. It seemed Alexis Blake had a new plan.

* * *

**A/N Finally a little Spencer/Hermione! Anyway I hope that was alright and please review! Thank you :D**


	17. Chapter 17

**DISCLAIMER: STILL, I OWN NOTHING **

* * *

**C****hapter 15:**

The flashing lights of the ambulance reflect harshly off the glass windows of the buildings. Vehicles slow to make way for the speeding car, and if anyone bothers to look, they would see the inquisitive looks on the faces of the other road users. Two black cars follow closely behind the ambulance, their drivers shadowing every turn with speed that is almost pre-emptive. Silence within them close to absolute, interrupted only sporadically by the ticking of the indicator moments before they make a turn. None of the occupants look at each other, instead they gaze sightless out of the tinted windows, watching emotionless as the commercial buildings began to blur into each other. With unexpected suddenness, the ambulance turns into the emergency area of a white brick hospital. With a sharp crackle, the driver of the second vehicle inquires of the first where visitors' parking is to be found. There is no answer, as the first vehicles driver turns sharply in after the ambulance. After a short deliberation, the second vehicle follows. Already, the pause has put the ambos and their cargo ahead of the others; they are hurriedly transporting the injured man from the car into the hospital. The passengers of the others cars exit just as quickly and they make their way through the emergency entrance – leaving their transport parked haphazardly on the curb of the central green. An eerie silence befalls them as they walk in the doors. It is a mental silence, rather than a physical silence. A kind of white noise has filled the thoughts of each person, blocking emotions and filling their minds with one shocked thought, repetitively uttered to their inattentive consciousness:

_Hotch could die._

"Are you all here for Aaron Hotchner?"  
A collective blink; each of them raises their head to the speaker. A man in a neat nurses' uniform is standing in front of them, his expression politely curious. It takes them a moment, then Reid steps from the group.  
"Yes. All of us."  
He confirms the question in a monotone, as though he cannot summon enough energy to answer any other way. Two women step from the cluster to stand on either side of him. JJ stands on his left and places her hand gently on his shoulder. Hermione stands on his right and lightly takes his hand. Reid doesn't react to either of them. He instead waits, somewhat impatiently, for the nurse to inform of Hotch's condition. The nurse seems to notice this and he begins to speak, sounding a little flustered.

"Mr Hotchner has been taken into surgery. Pending that, he will be moved into the ICU."

Reid acknowledges the statement with a nod. His mind is already rushing forwards, assessing the possibilities and the probability of each different outcome. Hermione turns from her position to look at Ron and Harry, before noticing Malfoy's absence. She remembers, somewhat distantly, his abrupt departure. She remembers his expression; disgruntled, and his demeanour; reluctant. She cannot, however, remember why he left. Hermione turns back around and pulls slightly at she and Reid's joined hands. She can feel the exhaustion threatening to overwhelm her as the adrenaline drains from her body. Without protest or, it seems, much thought, Reid follows her to the designated waiting area. The group follows them, seemingly operating as a single consciousness. Hermione seats Reid down and begins to fetch and arrange chairs to allow their large group to seat themselves around one of the small white tables. As though waking up, Morgan shakes himself slightly and, with jerky movements, produces his phone. He mutters in a grim tone;

"I'd better tell Garcia."  
Hermione can't stand to see the grief and desperation on Morgan's face when he tells Garcia what happened. She turns her head away, burying her face in Ron's shoulder. Harry smooths her hair in a comforting gesture, though she feels no comfort. She scolds herself severely for that one cowardly movement; for turning away from more grief. Because she knows it was cowardice – a selfish desire to abstain from feeling more pain than she already feels. Hermione lets the guilt wash through her, selfishly glad at the momentary reprieve from her sorrow.  
She still doesn't raise her head though.

Reid sits on the other side of the table, barely aware of JJ's grounding hand on his shoulder. His mind is running rings around the chance of Hotch's condition improving. He's aware that he's taking comfort in the mathematics – numbers have become somewhat of a coping mechanism for him. JJ is beginning to think through the mind numbing worry. With a slight jolt, she realizes that no one has told Jack. She knows somebody should, but wonders suddenly if it's right to worry them unduly? With a resigned sigh, JJ stands up. She knows the answer. She would certainly want Henry to know if she were injured. She passes Morgan as she takes out her phone. He looks tormented and JJ feels acutely sympathetic as she enters Hotch's home number. As the line rings, she looks to the table; there seems an almost visible depression over the entire party gathered there. As the other end of the phone is picked up, she sees a nurse walking up to the group – it must have been at least an hour since they entered the hospital.

Rossi and Prentiss sit side by side – In the former's mind there is no doubt the their friend will not pull through, while the latter begins to understand the feelings of her team when they thought they had lost her. A nurse approaches them, his hold on a clipboard unreasonably tense. He addresses the entire group, concealing his surprise.  
"You may see Mr Hotchner now. He has just come out of surgery and as such, you may expect him to be a little drowsy."  
Already, before the man has even finished speaking, they are scraping their chairs against the harsh linoleum, so intent on their goal they ignore common courtesy and leave the chairs scattered around, like obstacles in a very small steeplechase. They move on, in the manner of a culture, single-mindedly following the nurse. He leads them along a corridor, skilfully navigating through the hordes. When he pauses, it is at a door, slightly ajar, towards the North end of the hospital. He gestures them in, and softly pushes the door when they are all inside - although none of them notice. They are all too preoccupied with the figure lying on the bed. Aaron Hotchner contrasts strongly against the pale, clinical colours of the room. His black hair is disrupted by a pristine white bandage and his heart beat can be heard clearly on the monitor. Rossi is the first to move. Confidently, he walks to Hotch's side and lays his hand on Hotch's cheek. Rossi regards the man he thinks of as another brother; noting with concern the pale tone of his skin.  
"You're not quite rid of me yet."  
The voice comes from the unmoving figure on the bed. His eyes don't open, but his mouth lifts slightly – hinting at a smile. At that moment the closed door is flung open with such force that it rebounds off the wall, causing the unsuspecting current inhabitants of the room to jump. It is a mark of how shaken they are that none of the FBI agents reach for their guns or become defensive. Standing framed by the doorway, is Garcia. She seems frozen in shock, and she makes no move to enter the room. JJ appears at her shoulder, concern for Hotch clouding her face before she ushers the worryingly silent technical analyst into the room. Morgan takes charge of Garcia the moment she enters the room, winding his arm around her shoulders and pulling her close. She leans her head against him and closes her eyes, as though to convince herself that if she cannot see it, then it isn't real.  
Of course, that never works.

Rossi pats Hotch's cheek and withdraws to allow others a chance to greet Hotch. In turn, they all wish him well, each expressing a genuine desire for him to get better soon. All of a sudden it seems, it is Garcia's turn to step up. She looks up to Morgan, quizzically, as though unsure what she should do. He takes a step forward with his arm still around her. Progressing slowly in this fashion, he and Garcia stand beside the bed. She is trembling slightly; the delicate shuddering of a leaf in the breeze. Morgan squeezes her arm softly then releases her – moving back half a step to give the two a small measure of privacy. For a moment, there is no movement. The illusion of tranquillity is interrupted only by the humming of machines and their occasional beeps and clicks.  
With a wail worthy of a bean sidhe, Garcia throws herself onto Hotch, sobbing and shaking much more harshly than before. She, it seems, has no compunctions on expressing her emotions. Hotch raises an arm and pats her back softly; tilting his head to attempt to make sense of the words Garcia is crying.  
"I thought…you w-were gone! You're the strongest per-person I kn-know, don't e-ever do that again!"

Hotch smiles a little and nods his head – pointless, since Garcia can't see it from her hunched over position. It takes a few minutes, but Garcia finally removes herself from the bed. There is a cautious, nearly hesitant knock at the door and a nurse peeks around the corner. She seems taken aback at the number of people in the room. She asks the room at large, sounding slightly unsure of herself;

"Would you all like some chairs?"

They murmur their affirmations and she rushes out, accompanied upon her return with two other nurses and enough chairs for everyone. They set them out as quickly as possible - apparently as eager as the residents of the room to leave.  
Soon, maybe too soon, they were alone in the room again. Hotch, viewing them all from his reclined position on the bed, realized someone was missing.

Draco Malfoy.

Speaking of… Hotch put as much authority into his tone as possible and addressed the three quiet friends in the corner.

"I believe you owe us an explanation."

* * *

**A/N If I weren't incredibly lazy, this chapter would have been finished earlier, but I am incredibly lazy so... sorry about that, it is a while since my last update :) **

**Fill in chapter - but the next chapter will have a lot of boring dialogue and explanations, so I put a lot of description in this chapter instead!**

**Please review, they're all so amazing to read and I'm definitely going to try and reply to more reviews :D**


	18. Chapter 18

**DISCLAIMER: Despite my pleas, I still own nothing**

* * *

**Chapter 16: Hermione's Explanation**

The first thing you should know – this story starts long before us. The second – once you hear us out, you will have two options. We can't tell you what they are yet.

In the past few days – you've each seen things that you've struggled to explain.

The truth is…extraordinary.  
The truth is, magic is real.

Walking among you, perhaps living next door to you, are witches and wizards. Chances are, you've met one before. There aren't that many of us, but we're here. We're just as alive as you are. I can understand how difficult this might be for you to believe, but just think. What threw Hotch? It couldn't have been Alexis – she's strong sure, but she couldn't have thrown him that far herself. And you saw that Paul didn't move. That red light? That was magic. But I'm getting ahead of myself – let me explain why Harry, Ron and I are here.

Quite similarly to your world, we have had our share of wars and strife. A few decades ago, the first Wizarding War occurred. A wizard, once known as Tom Riddle, now going by the alias of Voldemort was the one who caused it. You should know that he was…perhaps evil, but certainly no longer human. He had lost all the compassion and sanity that makes us human. He was responsible for mass genocide – all in the name of a philosophy his famous family had held for centuries.

The philosophy of pure blood.

The school we all attended, Hogwarts was founded by the four greatest witches and wizards of the age; Godric Gryffindor, Salazar Slytherin, Helena Hufflepuff and Rowena Ravenclaw. Each prized certain characteristics – Gryffindor commended bravery, Slytherin appreciated cunning, Hufflepuff treasured compassion and Ravenclaw treasured intelligence. They worked in a semblance of harmony before Slytherin's protests to keep magical learning within magical learning within magical families became too much for the others too bear. In disgust, Slytherin left the school. Several generations later, Tom Riddle, Slytherin's descendant, was brought to Hogwarts from an orphanage. Unbeknownst to all, Riddle was learning dark magic. He disappeared for a few years after he left school, only to reappear as Voldemort – the Dark Lord, leader of the Death Eaters. Voldemort and his Death Eaters murdered not only Muggles – non-magical folk- but also Mudbloods.  
Yes, you heard right. A mudblood is a term, a derogatory one at that, for a witch or wizard with muggle parents.

If you think what Alexis Blake and Paul Weatherman have been doing is bad, imagine it on world scale. That was the first Wizarding War.

It ended abruptly, with Voldemort's disappearance. He had heard a prophecy, you see, about a baby who would be born with the power to defeat him. There were two children born then that fit the prophecy.

One was a great friend of ours, named Neville Longbottom.

The other was Harry.

Voldemort set out to kill Harry, mistaken in his understanding. The prophecy said that Voldemort would mark him as his equal.

Voldemort did that. He set out to Godric's Hollow, where Harry's parents were hiding, and killed them.

Except, he didn't kill Harry. His curse backfired and Voldemort was defeated – or so it seemed.

He hadn't truly died. The Dark Magic he had been dealing in had granted him a sort of immortality – though at a horrible price. He had shattered, torn his own soul into pieces. For 11 years, there was a kind of peace. Then Harry, Ron and I began school at Hogwarts. So did Malfoy. Later that year, Voldemort made a return. I won't tell you how – you probably wouldn't believe me. Or maybe you would.

Every year, Voldemort returned, more powerful than before. Each time, he was motivated by his goal to kill Harry. Finally, in 4th year he regained his body and made his true return – recalling all his old, loyal followers. The rest of the Wizarding World didn't find out until the end of our 6th year – through no fault of ours, I assure you. We didn't go to back to school the next year. The Second Wizarding War had begun and Harry had moved on from being the Boy who lived, to being the unspoken leader of the resistance – the Chosen One. Together with Ron and I, we went looking for a way to end Voldemort's grasp on immortality. There was no other way to kill him. We finally succeeded, with Neville and many others help, although the cost was terrible…

Anyway, before I left with Harry and Ron, I performed a memory spell on my parents. I removed all of their memories of me, gave them new names, and sent them to Australia.

And that's why we're here. Harry needs a break from being the chosen one, I need to find my parents and Ron is our best friend. Were one goes, we all go. I was looking for my parents when Ron saw the newspaper article. The rest you know.

* * *

Hermione inhaled deeply, closing her eyes briefly and fisted her hands. She could still see the shocked faces of the Muggles, cycling like a film behind her closed eyes. With every cycle, there was a slight snag. Like a piece of cloth stuck on a stubborn branch, the film of expressions paused on the one face each time.

Spencer Reid's.

There was a kind of blank horror on his face. He didn't seem to doubt a word she said – it seemed instead as though her speech had wounded him. His expression looked painfully familiar and Hermione struggled to remember where she had seen it before. It came to her quickly, unexpectedly, the knowledge hitting her like a punch to the stomach.  
It was the expression she had seen on Mrs Weasley and Fleur's faces when they had heard that Bill had been attacked by Greyback.  
Reid looked like someone had announced that someone he loved was dying, and this was the last he would ever see of them.

It hardly made sense, Hermione thought. Nobody here was dying. Hotch looked remarkably good, considering…

Hermione raised her head and exhaled, opening her eyes. She was momentarily blinded by the sterile atmosphere and waited patiently for the colours and indistinct forms to resolve themselves into more recognisable shapes. Slowly, Harry and Ron took form on her left and right. Drawing up her courage, she looked up to examine the faces of the BAU agents. She was intensely surprised when she saw some curious expressions instead of the shock and incredulity she had expected.  
"Do you have any…questions?"  
Hermione laughed inside when she realised that she sounded like a relief teacher unsure of her class. The first question came from JJ. Her doubtful tone expressed her unwillingness to believe Hermione, betraying at the same time an insatiable curiosity.  
"That answers our questions about you, but what about Draco Malfoy?"  
"What do you want to know?"  
Everyone in the room turned rapidly – leaning in an elegant fashion against the doorway was Malfoy. He was now wearing deep green robes, sewn with silver thread into whorls and spirals. Hermione was confused; she didn't remember hearing the door being opened. Which, she realised, meant that he had apparated.

It was one thing to notify muggles of the presence of magic, but to openly flaunt it?

Hermione wondered if there had ever been a more irresponsible Minister for Magic.

With a sarcastic smirk, Malfoy pushed off the edge of the doorway and walked towards the middle of the room. He regarded the hard metal chairs they were all seated in with a superior look of disdain and, drawing his wand from the robes, conjured a plush, straight-backed, expensive looking pale armchair. Hermione noted, with a sense of amusement that the chair was a shade that offset his robes in a way that must have been planned. He leaned forward in an attentive fashion, one elbow balanced on the arm of the chair.  
"What in particular do you want to know?"  
JJ seemed to consider this question and thought carefully for a moment. She discarded some pointless queries and responded with;

"Who are you?"  
A smile, slightly self-depreciating tugged at the corner of his mouth. Casting his gaze towards the ceiling, Malfoy answered without looking at anyone.  
"Who are you? That is a very complicated question – who are we? Does anyone know who they are? Muggle philosophy answers, I believe, many of these questions. I expect t that's not at all what you meant though."  
At that, he looked away from the ceiling, straight into JJ's eyes.  
"My name is Draco Malfoy. You needn't know my middle name – you are only a Muggle after all. I am 23 years old and I am the Minister for Magic for Australia. The Wizarding World's equivalent, I suppose, to your Prime Minster."  
"Actually,' Garcia piped up, 'we have a President. Not',' she added hastily, seeing the expression on Malfoy's face, 'that that matters."  
He simply raised an eyebrow, waiting for JJ's next question.  
"How did you go from Hogwarts to Minister for Magic?"  
There was a long, drawn-out pause during which JJ considered asking another question instead. His expression certainly seemed to imply that the question was unwelcome.  
"Did you tell them?"  
He was looked at JJ, and she jerked her head back slightly in confusion. She opened her mouth to express her confusion, but it became apparent he was addressing someone else.  
"No. It's your story to tell, if you want to."  
Malfoy spared a glance for Hermione, considering her and her two bumbling friends. He found he had to treat them with consideration, despite what they had done… Ina sudden movement, he held out his arm, pulling the sleeve of his robes back to bear his forearm to JJ.

"You don't know what this is. You know about the Dark Lord?' JJ nodded; a quick, nervous movement. 'This is the Dark Mark. It was a symbol that his followers were marked with. It's faded now; though I doubt it will it ever fade entirely. It will serve as a constant reminder for what I did, I expect. Which is no less than I deserve."  
There was no mistaking it this time – the look on his face was definitely one of self-depreciating. He gave the tattooed blemish on his skin a deep look of loathing before letting his arm fall forward, so the sleeve once again covered the Mark. He looked at JJ again.  
"So I was one of them – the Death Eaters. I failed the one mission I was given by the Dark Lord. My Father was one of his followers from the beginning. Most of the pure blood families were. I only left at the very end, when my Mother realised she was not going to take a war she didn't believe it take her son as well as her husband. My father – I would like to say it was love that took him from the Dark Lord's side, but it was cowardice. He wanted to be on the winning side. His crimes ensured he received a one way ticket to Azkaban. He would have gone too – if the most unlikely of people hadn't vouched for him. Loony Lovegood.' He made a noise which, in other people, would have constituted as a snort. For him, it was a sound of amusement. 'I expect the Ministry was hoping to send me to prison as well, although I too had people speaking for me at my trial. More to the point, I had these three people.' At that, he paused again and looked at Harry in particular. 'I never thanked you for that did I?"  
Harry shook his head.

"No, you didn't."  
Malfoy nodded to himself.  
"I didn't think I had. Anyway, after that I had to get out of the country. I had barely escaped the house arrest my Father had been condemned to and I was eager to be far away from the accusing stares from people on the street. So I said my goodbyes to Mother and Father, requested a reasonable amount of money for travel and left. I went to Egypt, Paris and Geneva. Then, when I tired of them, I visited Russia, Mongolia and Australia. And here I stayed – people didn't care who I was or what I had done. I worked my way through the Ministry, honestly and anonymously – like anyone else. One day, I found myself accepting the position of Minister of Magic for Australia. And here I will stay until I die. This is my home now: no-one hates me for my past crimes. They may have once, but the difference between them and the others is that these people gave me the chance to change their perceptions of me. Are there any more questions?"  
A thoughtful and somewhat awkward silence met Malfoy's inquiry.  
There was the harsh scrape as a chair was pushed forcefully backwards, its occupant using the force to propel themselves up. Everyone turned to look at Reid, who was standing, shoulders hunched and hands loosely curled at his sides. He looked at none of them, instead concentrating on breathing deeply. His usually composed and organised mind was a maelstrom of conflicting thoughts and wishes. One part of his mind was still reserved and observed with detached amusement to see which wish and emotion would win.  
In a remarkably short space of time, his brilliant mind had come to a decision.

Looking up to regard the room, Reid met Hermione's complicated expression. He read hope, anxiety and worry though he feel comfortable reading any deeper.  
"Hermione, can I talk to you alone?"

She inhaled quickly, looking to Harry and Ron to see whether or not they were opposed to the idea. Completely without her control, a hopeful smile crept onto her face. She had been so worried that Reid wouldn't accept what she had told them – and it had pained her, somewhat illogically, in her chest. She didn't want to lose his…acquaintance.

Not quite yet.  
She stood up, feeling the back of the chair release its hold of her perspiring body. Following Reid out of Hotch's room, she felt Malfoy's eyes on her back. Years of rivalry prevented her from allowing him to get a rise out of him and she walked out with her head held high – the uninvited smile still lingering on her face.

* * *

Hermione gazed around at the corridor outside Hotch's room. Somehow, when Reid had asked to speak with her alone, she had thought that meant _alone._ Not surrounded by the bustle of a city hospital. She thought about casting a charm to allow them to talk uninterrupted – yet the only spell she could think of was the infernal mufliato charm Harry had learnt from the Half-blood prince's book.  
Reid was standing perfectly upright across from Hermione, his eyes following anyone who came too close to him. Despite asking her to talk with him, Reid seemed quite uninclined to begin the discussion. He held the silence for several minutes, half hoping and half dreading that she break it herself. Hermione Granger's obstinacy held out though, and Reid was the first to speak.

"What you said in there…I don't quite know what to make of it."  
A feeling of dread so strong it felt like a stone manifested itself in Hermione's stomach. She was mute with it.  
"I've never heard a story like it before. It deserves a book and a movie franchise in its own right."

Dread, growing stronger – what did happiness feel like?  
"Don't worry though; I'll personally ensure you receive the best possible treatment. It's the least I can do, after…"  
Numbness, like the memory of anaesthesia, filled Hermione. Her ears were buzzing and she was fighting back tears.

"You don't… believe…me?" She choked out.

A horrible look of pity was filling Reid's eyes – not at all the emotion she had desperately hoped to see. Although, it didn't seem to matter how much she didn't want to believe it, she could feel the truth inside her.  
Reid didn't believe her.

He though she was crazy.

He wanted to put her in an asylum.

Hermione's hands crept up to her head and covered her face as tears fell down her cheeks. She knew that she was stronger than this, but that thought didn't stop the sobs she could feel. Soft hands grasped her shoulders for a second, softer lips pressed to hers for a second and when she looked up-

Spencer Reid was gone.

* * *

**A/N I apologise profusely for not posting sooner - all the reviews and the readers deserve better. I hope the length makes it up to you :)**

**Poetically, I finished this chapter with a beautiful view of the full moon; despite being in a room with no fans or aircon and during summer! Ah well :)**

**Happy New Year! Hope you all had a GREAT XMAS! I asked for a book voucher (as always) but Mum's taking me shopping for new school books next week, so fingers crossed! **

**Speaking of school, for literature next year I'm studying Doll's House, Theban plays and The Great Gatsby. I've read some of Henrik Ibsen's work and I've read Great Gatsby. I've been told to read around the texts - any suggestions would be hugely appreciated - even if they have nothing to do with these texts! ;)**

**Thank you all, and I will be back in 2013 (less than an hour!) N**


	19. Chapter 19

**DISCLAIMER: We all know I don't own them.**

**Also, Happy Valentines Day!**

* * *

Chapter 17:

Back in the Hotel Room

"Are you alright?"

Harry couldn't help but ask the question despite knowing Hermione didn't want to talk. The expression on his best friends' face made him equally depressed and angry. He and Ron could feel her pain as surely as if it was their own, and they were also beginning to mourn the loss of the friendships they might have had. Ron especially was thinking fondly of a curvaceous technical analyst. Ron and Harry were attempting, the former more successfully, to repress the anger they felt at the American genius.

Hermione was sitting limply in one of the chairs in their new hotel room. One of her hands dangled boneless off the arm of the chair, her wand held carelessly loose in her fingers; simultaneously, her head rested against the chairs' back in a decidedly awkward position, in fact she looked as if she had no indication of moving any time soon. Addressing the ceiling, which was curiously adorned with a world map, Hermione answered Harry's question.

"Are you? It doesn't matter Harry – I'll be fine, just like we always are."

Inexplicably, her forgiving manner served to further Harry's anger. He felt his temper swell. That fool had hurt his best friend! He wished dearly that the Ministry of Magic in Australia was as lenient on his actions on the British one. If he could only jinx that muggle…

Unfortunately, Malfoy would take any action on Harry's behalf as an opportunity to tarnish his image.

"It's not alright Hermione! Please stop pretending what he did was right."

Ron was nodding in a semblance of deep thought – Harry doubted, of course, that he was truly thinking anything serious. He wasn't in the mood to think charitably of anyone at the moment.

"Harry's right Hermione, you should wipe that one's memory for sure."

Hermione drew a breath to rebuke Ron's statement, but Harry was quickly agreeing and subverting whatever Hermione was planning on saying.

"Ron's got a point! They need to have their memories modified, and you told Malfoy that you didn't want the Ministry to take care of it. You should definitely wipe their memories; you are after all, the best at memory charms…"

Harry began to trail off towards the end of the sentence when he saw Hermione's wand hand twitch. He winced and started to apologize when he realized what he had said. The whole reason they were in this Godforsaken country in the first place was because Hermione had been so good at memory charms!

"Hermione, I-"

"Save it Harry! I know what you meant, but I don't care! I will never modify anyone's memory again – I have no right to mess around with someone's mind like that! And neither do you!"

She pushed herself out of the chair with a vibrancy that bellied her earlier lethargy. Ron shot up, leaving Harry alone seated.

"We can't let them run around blurting our secrets Hermione! I'm not trying to imply some kind of supremacy, but we do have a right to ensure our secrets stay that way – secret!"

"You sound just like a pure-blood Ronald! I suppose I should surrender my wand and join my muggle parents in keeping your secret?!"

"That's not what I meant at all! Everyone knows you're the brightest witch of our age Hermione – that includes muggle-borns, half-bloods and pure-bloods alike! And what do you mean I sound like a pure-blood? You sound worse!"

"How dare you! You're as bad as the rest, Ronald Bilius Weasley! When it comes down to it, you succumb as easily to tradition and expectations as the rest!"

Harry pushed himself out of the chair, his temper already lost and demanding an outlet. He joined the argument with a yell.

"What is this really about Hermione? Why did you let this happen?"

It seemed Harry had said the wrong thing. Hermione rounded on him with a spin, her hair spinning around her and rising around her angry face. Harry had the sudden, certainly unwise thought, that Hermione at the moment closely resembled a harpy with Medusa's hair – when she was a gorgon.

"WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY?!"

Harry winced. Perhaps a banshee?

"I said-"

"I HEARD WHAT YOU SAID! I DIDN'T LET ANY OF THIS HAPPEN!"

Ron snorted softly behind Hermione, his expression an odd juxtaposition of incredulity and anxiety.

"Could have fooled me."

Hermione whirled back around, her expression shifting from anger to deep hurt.

"Why are you saying these things?"

Ron had the grace and sense to look ashamed; he cowardly dipped his head to avoid Hermione's accusing gaze and muttered under his breath;

"Harry started it."

Harry drew himself up defiantly behind Hermione's back – this was one argument in which he knew he was right. Hermione turned slowly around and stared at Harry as though she had never seen him before.

"What is this about Harry?"

"It's about you, Hermione; your actions and decisions, whether you like it or not, affect more people than you think! And at the moment, you've made some wrong decisions, and now you're refusing to fix them, or even admit you're wrong!"

"Well, if you don't like my decisions, then why delegate to me in the first place?"

"Because I'm so tired Hermione! We've survived a war, and I thought that helping you here would mean I could I have a break from having to be 'Harry Potter – the boy who defeated the Dark Lord'! I thought that perhaps you knew what you were doing! Instead, you've created a huge mess!"

"Fine, blame it all on me! You're the one with the hero complex Harry! You can't resist the urge to save anyone."

Harry winced. He was angry, but not really at Hermione. He was reminded of sixth year, when he was left out of the Order of the Phoenix and unfairly took his anger out on everyone around him. He knew he should apologize to Hermione, make everything right, but his pride begged him to let it be for just a little while. Making a quick decision, Harry started;

"Hermione I-"

"Save it Harry! You're the Chosen One – so choose. You make a choice on what will happen to the agents."

As she said this, she was whipping her wand around the room, the non-verbal spell causing the objects to pack themselves smartly into her waiting bag. In a matter of seconds, the room was emptied of the few belongings Hermione had taken from her bag.

"Hermione."

It was Ron. He was watching her sadly, an incredibly desolate expression crossing his face.

"Yes?"

She barely looked at either of them as she paused on her walk to the door. Harry thought he saw the sheen of tears on her cheek, but when he looked again they were gone. It must have been a trick of the light.

"Where are you going?

"To find my parents."

* * *

BAU's POV

"It certainly explains some things."

The BAU team were still gathered in Hotch's hospital room. For the past hour and change, they had been talking themselves in circles over the tale they had been told. They were all avoiding two large, obnoxious elephants in the room.

The first – Reid was still missing.

The second – Whether what they had been told was true or not.

Garcia nodded at JJ's statement.

"It explains why I couldn't find any kind of records on them."

"So you think their school really exists?"  
"Well they've certainly had some kind of education, and some of the things they said… it reminded me of some of the freak accidents from the past few years. Do you remember some of those deaths that some of the other BAU's got called to? Their orders were all cancelled from the higher-ups. You don't think it had something to do with their war?"  
Prentiss snorted lightly;

"You're associating random events to find a pattern and reason. It's entirely possible they've been working on this story for a while, and took the opportunity to add authenticity to their story by including a plausible explanation of several unexplained events in the past few years."  
Garcia looked at everyone. Morgan and Prentiss definitely didn't believe it, while she and JJ were open to the possibility. Rossi and Hotch were not taking an active part in the conversation, instead watching and making the occasional comment. Garcia wondered if perhaps Hotch wanted to sleep and they were making too much noise.  
"How do you explain the deaths we've been investigating then?"  
"The actions of someone mentally disturbed, or perhaps members of blood supremacy group."

"But Hotch! Look at what happened to him! How can you explain that?"  
"The light that hit him? Garcia, that was a laser, probably rigged with the knowledge that they would be discovered eventually."  
"But, she used a wand…"  
"You've seen what they disguise laser pointers as these days!"  
"Morgan, some of the things we've seen just can't be explained with science! You know that!"

Morgan scoffed. He loved his baby girl, but no way did he believe that mumbo-jumbo tale the kids had told them. It sounded more as though they had gone through something terrible and created a story about magic and Dark Lords to cope. There was one thing that still bothered him though…

"That chair. How did Malfoy do that?"

"Physics. It may have seemed that he produced it from nowhere, but in reality what he did was far more human."

It was Reid.  
Morgan was the first to stand, very abruptly, and the others followed somewhat slower.

Reid was standing, almost leisurely, in the doorway, his expression amused but blank. There was no indication on his person to indicate that he had been missing for hours. Morgan was the first to speak.

"Reid…man, where have you been?"  
Completely ignoring Morgan's question, Reid pushed into the room, letting the door bang shut behind him. He took the vacant seat beside Hotch's bed and observed them all from his position.

"Please, take a seat. No need to stand on ceremony."  
Morgan cautiously sat down. Reid's tone was decidedly odd, and he wasn't acting at all like himself. He waited tensely for the others to sit down; desperately hoping none of them would do anything to antagonise Reid. Slowly, the others followed suit, seating themselves on the edge of their chairs – ready to rise at the slightest motivation. There was a harsh silence, jagged and dangerous as a shattered window. There was a shuffle and crinkle from the bed as Hotch arranged himself so he could more easily see Reid.

"Explain the physics of it to me Reid – it seemed spontaneous to me, but perhaps you saw something I didn't."  
"Well-"

A polite knock punctuated Reid's explanation, and a nurse stepped into the room.  
"Excuse me, there's an urgent phone call at the front desk for Mr Hotchner; A Ms Port? She won't accept my assurances that Mr Hotchner is not able to come to the phone right now. Could someone please take the call?"  
Rossi rose immediately and followed the relieved looking nurse from the room. Again, the decidedly awkward silence intruded on them. Hotch turned to face Reid, examining him for, no doubt, any sign of physical injury.  
"Reid?"  
He immediately turned to Hotch, apparently more eager to listen to him than anyone else.

"Yes?"  
"Can you go and buy me a coffee? I don't trust this hospital food. JJ can go with you – she knows where the canteen is."  
"Sure – are you meant to be drinking coffee though? I may not be a doctor of medicine, but I'm not sure that's the best thing at the moment."  
Hotch regarded Reid carefully, before smiling very slightly.  
"You can have the hospital jelly."  
Reid stood up and signalled to JJ.

"I'll be right back."

* * *

Rossi's POV

Rossi picked up the phone, wondering what exactly Ms Port was so desperate to tell Hotch about. Surely if she knew he was in hospital, she knew what had happened to him to send him there?

"Hello?"  
"Agent Rossi? I distinctly remember asking that useless woman for Agent Hotchner. Please fetch him for me, if you would be so kind."  
"Ms Port, I assure you that the nurse was telling you the absolute truth, Agent Hotchner is currently recovering from an injury he sustained just hours ago. Whatever you have to say, you can be assured you can tell me and I will relay it to Agent Hotchner."  
For a moment, Rossi could only hear breathing on the other end of the line. He could see, in his mind's eye, Ms Port holding the phone, debating whether or not to hang up. Then;

"Alright then. The man you apprehended, a Mr Paul Weatherman, has finally started speaking to our Agents."  
"That's great progress on the case Ms Port, but haven't the BAU and ASIO ceased their collaboration on this case?"  
"That's the slight snag – Mr Weatherman insists that unless he talks to Agent Hotchner he won't say a word."  
"So you want us to come in and record his confession?"  
"Essentially, yes. We understand that given Agent Hotchner's current situation, that may be slightly difficult, but to convict this man we need his confession."  
Rossi considered for a moment. He knew that Hotch would say 'yes' immediately, but whether the doctors would agree with him was another matter altogether…  
"I'll see what I can do."  
"Thank you very much Agent Rossi, I hope to see you very soon."  
There was a click as Ms Port hung up, and Rossi thought that perhaps, this case wasn't near as wrapped up as he would like to hope.

* * *

"Reid, if I ask you a question, do you promise not to get angry with me?"  
JJ crossed her fingers behind her back, desperately hoping that whatever was bothering Reid had to do with Hermione. That, she was sure, he could deal with in time.  
"Of course I won't get angry with you JJ."  
"Where were you? You went AWOL Reid, and then turn up as though nothing happened."  
There was no answer, just the clamour of the hospital around them and the occasional chime of a cell phone or squeak of a shoe against the floor. Reid and JJ walked along in terse silence, punctuated only by JJ ordering Hotch's coffee. It was when they were halfway back to the room when Reid stopped suddenly and turned to JJ.  
"I was in the psychiatric ward."  
JJ stopped as well, almost dropping Hotch's coffee when she heard him.  
"Why?"  
Reid fidgeted uncomfortably, raking a hand through his hair and straightening his clothing.  
"The things they did JJ! They're inexplicable, and the rest of you didn't seem bothered in the least! I started wondering if maybe, you say something different to me, and then I remembered something I hadn't noticed at the time. Mr Malfoy conjured a chair out of thin air! I don't know how I missed it, maybe I was just too…distracted… but it's simply not possible, not by any means. So I went to the psychiatric ward."  
Realization dawned on JJ. She was instantly saddened at the thought of what he had done.  
"You thought you had become schizophrenic didn't you?"  
Reid nodded, and JJ reached out and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder.  
"And?"  
Reid shook his head, and JJ was filled with dread. Could it possibly be?  
"I insisted the Doctor continue to do tests – each of them kept coming up with the same result, and I just couldn't accept it."

JJ tightened her hand on his shoulder, what had those tests said?

"They said I was in fine mental condition. Which can't be right. Magic isn't real, so they must have done something else. I took a walk outside and just thought all the reasons that could have made us see the things we did. Apart from mental health problems, I realised that the next most likely thing was hallucinogens. We didn't see what we think we saw. I'm sure that somehow, they slipped us something that made us see something else, not what was happening. Hotch was obviously shot, but whatever we were given made us think he was injured by a burst of red light. Malfoy obviously sat on a normal chair, but our minds were still clouded and we saw him make a chair appear from nowhere! That entire story is just a cover for the fact that the entire time we've known each other; they've been dosing us up! Otherwise why would we let civilians, especially people who are so obviously liars assist us on such a top secret case? Something else was interfering here JJ, and I'm just glad I finally figured out what it was. Who knows how long this might have gone on?"  
JJ nodded in agreement with Reid. She had no idea what to believe, but she knew Reid couldn't and never would accept the slightest possibility of the supernatural. The two of them walked back in a more comfortable silence, delivering Hotch's coffee before he got frustrated. It was they were all sitting together that JJ realised Reid had never told her what happened between Hermione and himself.  
Which was not promising in the least.

* * *

**A/N: not my best writing, but I hope the length makes up for it! Review if you please, and I hope I addressed most of the inconsistencies. **

**Credit goes to:**

**Megan1339**

**Yameko**

**sasherly**

**Without these amazing people, the chapter probably wouldn't have been finished until half-way through the year! **


	20. Chapter 20

"It is the strange fate of the man, that even in the greatest of evils the fear of the worst continues to haunt him."  
-Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

* * *

Chapter 18: The Fear is Within

Hermione Granger settled herself in a decidedly ugly chair, pulling the keyboard of the computer towards her. It had taken some work, but she had located the national library and, with any hope, her parents address. She focused on the page in front of her, attempting to tamper down the rising feeling of hope. She didn't want to be disappointed again.  
With great trepidation, she slowly typed;

_Wilkins W_

A series of circles ran across the screen, accompanied with cursive script the informed her that the results were loading.

She attempted to relax into her chair, but the tension overwhelmed her. Her patience, already shortened from her fight with Harry 3 days ago, was hanging by this tender thread. She rose out of her chair, pacing in front of her small cubicle. For once, being in a library, surrounded by books, was not calming her.

She felt her nails digging unconsciously into her crossed arms, but had not the strength to move them. She looked at the screen, surprised to see a clear white page with neat black text.  
Had it really loaded so soon?  
Hermione shut her eyes briefly and inhaled deeply. She took her seat and leaned forward to the computer screen.

**Wilkins W**

Thames Street

Frankston South Vic 3199

**Wilkins W**

Hearthside Ct

Ringwood VIC 3134

**Wilkins W**

Kenilworth Ave

Hyde Park QLD 4812

**Wilkins W**

Ramsgate Rd

Ramsgate NSW 2217

**Wilkins W  
**Genge Street

Canberra ACT 2612

Hermione's eyes widened in shock.  
Genge Street?  
She had been living a few streets from her parents the whole time she had been in Canberra?!

She rose abruptly, barely remembering to clear her search history before she ran from the library, ignoring the disapproving looks from the librarians.

* * *

She tapped her foot impatiently in the backseat earning a scowl from her taxi driver. She frowned in return and replied with a snap;  
"Keep your eyes on the road!"  
He gave her a smug smile and nodded towards the road.

"See that traffic? Not even magic could get us through this mess."  
Hermione thought longingly of the ministry cars, how they could slide through the smallest of gaps with ease. She had been forced by the oppressive heat to take a taxi, only to realize it was the middle of rush hour in the city, causing traffic to move at a snail's pace.  
"Why is it so crowded?"  
The driver frowned, and Hermione realized she had said something social odd.  
"It's Australia Day. Aren't you here for the celebrations?"  
She smiled politely, hoping to convince him she was simply a scatty British tourist.  
"I didn't think so many people would be on the streets so early!"  
That seemed to appease him, and he turned back around to the road, moving the car forward another half metre.  
"Isn't there a shortcut?"  
The man huffed in amusement.

"No."

She racked her brain – she had to get there as soon as possible!

"Are there any side streets for pedestrians?"  
She knew she was being rude, but after all this time, she desperately wanted to see her parents. It wasn't safe for them here anymore, not with Alexis Blake on the loose.

Her driver shuddered, and Hermione frowned at him. He was completely overreacting. She was still going to pay him!  
His neck turned in a series of short jerky movements, as though he had no control over his actions.  
His eyes, when he focused on her face, were glazed and glassy – like those of a taxidermied animal.  
His voice, when he spoke, was not his.  
It was _hers.  
_"Hermione! Fancy seeing you here, how are you?"

Hermione stiffened in her seat. An imperius curse evidently, but how? She had to be somewhere nearby; there was no other way….  
NO!  
Hermione threw herself out of the taxi, ignoring the manic female laugh emanating from the taxi. She sprinted through the crowd, slipping between the gaps in cars and pushing through pedestrians. The sign post ahead of her read Mort Street and she clutched the stitch in her side, not slowing as she ran past Murulla Lane. She turned onto Genge Street, and gasped.

The street was dense with people waving flags and chanting loudly, some wearing strange wigs and others wearing umbrella hats.  
Hermione elbowed her way through the crowd, making her way along the street. She scanned the houses, experiencing a shock of horror when she realized she didn't know which house her parents were in.  
She would have to resort to other measures.

Taking advantage of the heavy crowds, Hermione leaned over the fence of number 9 Genge Street, and opened the mailbox.

_Miss Alexandra Twiname_

_9 Genge Street, Canberra, ACT_

_2601_

Hermione shook her head sharply at the letter, as though it personally offended her. She placed the bundle of mail back and moved next door, repeating the subtle lean over the fence. She scanned the letter, her sense of urgency increasing as she placed Mr Tran's mail back into his letterbox. Moving onto number 31, Hermione found she had her fingers crossed. She resolved that if this house wasn't it, she would take drastic measures.  
After all, Malfoy and his ministry couldn't touch her.

She opened the rusting letterbox, feeling around for a letter, when her hand grasped a small card. Pulling it out, she saw it was a notice to collect an item from the post office, then…

_Mr Wendell Wilkins_

_31 Genge Street, Canberra, ACT_

_2601_

Her heart thumping faster and faster, Hermione stuffed the letter in her pocket, not bothering to close the letterbox. She jumped the garden fence and raced up the path, taking in the closed curtains and the paper sitting desolately beside the front steps.  
_Knock Knock_

Hermione rapped sharply on the door, pulling out her wand. She didn't wait for a reply to her knock, muttering a quick _Alohamora _and tapping the lock.  
She walked into a moderately cluttered lounge room, clear of all human presence. She still held her wand in her hand and cast a spell to find the amount of people in the house.  
None.  
She turned around in a circle, distressed and angry.  
How dare that bitch go after her family?!  
She was about to leave when a piece of paper caught her eye.  
Small as a place card, it was sitting innocuously on yesterday's paper. The writing on it drew Hermione closer, until she could make the single characters out.

35.2789

149.1092

* * *

**A/N Hi! I want to thank you all so much for all your fantastic reviews - I certainly wouldn't be able to motivate myself as well without them! Sorry if there are any mistakes, or it isn't up to the normal standard, I did write it in approximately *Checks watch* 4 hours? And no BAU sorry, but they will be in the next chapter. We couldn't really cut away from Hermione in this chapter! As for the numbers, you're all smart cookies and I'm sure you'll work it out ;) Happy Easter/April Fools (Can you wish a Happy April Fools? Not sure...)  
As for this chapter, the real Genge street is unfortunately retail, though Mort Street does exist!  
Over and out!  
**


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